The Hidden Heir: A Secret Set In Stone
by Ec1aire
Summary: The worst was over, or so they all believed. But ruling over Erebor was never going to be easy, and sometimes even the most peaceful of times can be wrought with unknown dangers. With her life as a Ranger at an end, Alana knew she would have a difficult task ahead of her. And being Queen of Erebor was just one of those challenges. Thorin/OC. Book 2.
1. A New Life Begins

**A/N: Woohoo! Here we go again! This is book number two in this series, so for those of you seeing this for the first time, I would HIGHLY recommend you go and read the first part of this series. For those returning, welcome back, and thanks! It was amazing reading all of your wonderful comments about the last part, and I hope to see a few familiar names popping up here and there... ;) This particular story is set post-BotFA, and will probably span all the way up to the events of LotR, which (if I continue that long) will probably be another separate fic. We'll see how this goes first, though :) So, without further ado, let's get started!**

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 **'I think recovery from anything is honestly the most badass thing a person can do.' ~ Anonymous**

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 **A Secret Set In Stone**

 **Chapter 1:**

It had been two months, the winter chill just beginning to fade away as February progressed, and yet Alana couldn't get used to the feeling of a feathery mattress beneath her. She had spent so long sleeping on the hard ground that the bed made her feel like she would just sink right to the floor. At first it had been fine - she had been far too exhausted to stop and notice the surface she was lying on. Now, that exhaustion was sneaking up on her again, because she hadn't been able to sleep for more than a few hours each night for at least eight weeks. Though perhaps her poor sleep was also, in part, due to the horrible nightmares she'd been getting.

She wasn't the only one, by any means. Most nights, before she fell asleep, she would hear someone else crying out or sobbing, and she would routinely get up from her bed, leave her room, find the room of the aforementioned dwarf, and carefully ease him into the waking world. Usually it was Fili or Kili, as they slept closest to her and were easiest to hear (not to mention they were so unused to such bloody violence), but she had on one occasion each also had to go into the rooms of Dwalin and Balin, and half a dozen times even to Thorin. Thorin's room was right next to hers, and hearing his reaction to his nightmares was always the worst. He, of everyone, was the only one to ever use words. Usually he was crying out for Fili or Kili, and sometimes her, but one time he'd cried out for his brother; for Frerin.

Upon seeing how utterly wrecked he was when he woke from that particular nightmare, she had refused to leave him to sleep alone, and so had crawled under the covers to lie next to him, easing him back into sleep. She didn't allow herself to rest that night, remaining a vigilant presence by his side, stroking his hair for hours on end to keep him calm. When morning came, no one commented about her presence in his room during the night. They all understood.

The nightmares were starting to dwindle now, for everyone. The original shock had passed, and now the need to move on swept over them. They all knew they'd get nightmares about the battle for the rest of their lives, but at least it wouldn't happen quite so frequently.

Besides the rather irritating lack of sleep, one of the biggest changes in her life was her peculiar friendship with Dain. He'd never explicitly stated that he approved of her relationship with Thorin, and she knew that he had at one point pulled Thorin aside to talk about it - at length apparently, based on how long they were gone - but neither was he openly against it. At odd moments in the day Alana would find herself being approached by the dwarf Lord, and while at first she thought it merely a coincidence, it had begun to happen so often that she wondered if he was actively seeking her out. She didn't mind in the slightest - Dain was gruff and boisterous to the extreme, but she respected him, and he her, and they got on quite well. At this point, she figured whether or not he approved was irrelevant - he trusted Thorin to make the right decision, and one day she was sure he would prove to be a steadfast ally in this, regardless of his own, unspoken opinion.

More and more dwarves were trickling in to Erebor with each passing day, some coming in large groups, others wandering in pairs or even on their own. According to Thorin, a lot of dwarves had decided to make their homes in the wildlands both west and east of the Misty Mountains, living in secluded areas. Others had taken refuge in Dunland, which itself was almost a two month journey. They weren't expecting the caravans from the Blue Mountains for another several weeks, as it was a long journey even for those used to travelling such distances, and with numbers against them, the dwarves would be moving slowly.

Despite the slow start, life was beginning to return to Erebor. Thorin insisted on meeting with each of the residents personally within their first few days of arrival, asking questions about their families and their jobs, their interests and hobbies. Then he would make a note of each, and focus on making his people as happy as they could be. The things with the greatest number of workers or interest in them were the first to be rebuilt and repaired, allowing the dwarves to start working as soon as possible. The mines had been checked over to see how safe they were - to which the answer was very positive - and the forges had been running constantly since Smaug had lit them (the fact that they were burning from dragon fire was a source of delight for a lot of people). The markets were being repaired, and slowly but surely, other occupations were starting to appear. Blacksmiths and miners were amongst the most common, but now they also had tailors, carpenters, goldsmiths, jewellers, butchers, bakers, furriers, stablehands, and cartwrights. There were also a few farmers that had come from the wildlands, who had begun to cultivate the land around the mountain's base for the start of spring.

After she got out of bed, Alana went through her usual routine - change into her Ranger clothes, comb out her hair and then tie it back in a haphazard bun that sat at the nape of her neck, grab her bow and arrows and a few throwing knives, and then grab her other hunting tools. Then she would veritably march over to Kili's room, knock on the door hard enough to wake him up (because, despite his promises to the contrary, he _never_ got out of bed before she arrived), and then spend fifteen minutes waiting for him to do whatever the hell it was he did in the morning, at which point he'd come out with his bow in hand and a goofy, sheepish grin on his face, and the two would leave the mountain.

Everyone knew they could afford to import food for years without fear of running out of gold, even without more being added each day from the mines, but Thorin and Alana had agreed that it would be better for everyone to be as self-sufficient as possible. Until more hunters established themselves in Dale and the local area, Kili and Alana were in charge of bringing in most of the fresh meat. They would take their time circling the mountain, sometimes having to stay out all day, and would bring back as much meat as they could carry. Most of the time, the duo came back with rabbits and pheasants, though they occasionally managed to spot a buck or a doe. They'd appear in Erebor tired yet satisfied - usually just after midday, thank Mahal - and would hand their meat over to a dwarf called Tirlum, who would in turn distribute it as necessary to the various butchers around the kingdom. Some days they didn't bring back anywhere near enough meat for all the eleven butchers to get some, but Tirlum was very good at keeping things fair. Not once had they yet been so low on food that they had needed to import some from elsewhere.

"You're very quiet today," Kili noted, breaking Alana from her thoughts.

They were trekking through one of the forests due west of the mountain, arrows notched against their bowstrings. Alana sent Kili an amused look. "I'm always quiet," she teased. "You just talk enough for the both of us, so you don't notice."

After childishly sticking his tongue out at her, Kili refocused his attention ahead of them. Today's hunt had been successful so far, even after just an hour - they'd already picked up four pheasants, two partridges, and seven rabbits. It was still early in the morning, so they decided to stay out longer to see if they could find anything else.

"Where do you think **_amad_** is at the moment?" Kili asked suddenly, and Alana cocked an eyebrow his way, though his eyes were trained on the ground so he didn't notice.

The Ranger hummed thoughtfully. "Well," she mused, "it's been two months since we were informed the dwarves were leaving the Blue Mountains, so I'd say... they're probably not too far from Rivendell."

Kili blew out a frustrated breath. "It's taking so _long_ for them to get here!" he complained, scuffing the floor with his boot. "We don't have the numbers to do anything _fun_ yet." He huffed. "Not to mention Thorin's got Balin teaching Fili and me how to be 'proper Princes'."

"Fili and I," Alana corrected with a grin, laughing when Kili grumbled under his breath in khuzdul. "Don't think you're the only one with new duties, Kee," she said with more seriousness. "We've all got things to learn. Even Thorin's having to get used to his new workload. I myself am being taught about a thousand things at once."

That seemed to catch his interest. "Really? How come I didn't know that?"

"Probably because it's when you're busy learning to be a Prince," noted Alana with a smile. "While you're doing that, I've got to learn how to properly dress, eat, stand, speak... You name it. The only enjoyable bit about it is my khuzdul lessons with Ori."

Kili grinned. "How's that going?"

"Quickly, I think." She smiled at him. "It helps I actually want to learn how to speak and write in your language. The rest I could live without, but it's nice to know I'll be able to understand you more often."

" ** _Kud nurt gabil dumâ, (What a lovely day we're having,)_** " Kili said with a cheeky grin, probably trying to catch her out.

Alana glanced up at the canopy of bare tree limbs above their heads, the winter sun having grown noticeably warmer in the last week or so. Still, there was an ominous gathering of grey and black clouds sweeping in from the south west, so she replied, " ** ** _ _ _ ** ** ** ** _Arniki zatarzaki_ ****_hibduzul_************___**** ** _. (I think it's going to rain later.)_** "

Kili chuckled. "Yes, you might be right."

Alana smirked at him, then the two fell into silence again, turning their attention back to the task at hand. Alana paused when she noticed hoof marks in the soil, and with a wordless glance at Kili, the two began following the trail. It wasn't long before they came across a clearing, in the centre of which stood a herd of deer. Three bucks and six does made up the herd, and with a bright grin Kili began to pull back his arrow. Alana gently placed her hand on his arm, lowering his bow.

Kili shot her a questioning look, but her eyes were fixed on the herd. Following her gaze, Kili tried to work out what had made her stop him. It took him a moment, but then he noticed that the does - all of them - were carrying. They'd agreed when they first began these hunts together that they would never attack a pregnant animal, nor that animal's partner, nor any young children. That meant that this entire herd were safe from their arrows.

The two sat and watched the herd for a while, before sharing a look and backing away quietly.

"I'm going to miss this," Alana commented as they started heading back to the mountain. "Once trade starts again, and once our numbers have improved, there'll be no need for us to go out hunting."

Kili shrugged. "That doesn't mean we can't," he pointed out. "Maybe not every day, but enough to stop us from getting bored." He paused suddenly, then gave a rueful smile. "I'm being stupid again, aren't I?" he asked suddenly, catching Alana off guard. "It's all going to change from here; we won't have _time_ for stuff like this."

Chuckling, Alana wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a quick side-hug. "Don't let this upset you too much, Kee. Thorin's already picked a few old traditions to continue once things settle down - one of which is a warrior's tournament. One I'm sure we'll all be eager to take part in."

Kili chuffed. "Well, we all know how that'll turn out - everyone else will be knocked out of the competition until it's just you and uncle left, and then... well, it's anyone's guess after that, I suppose."

"From what I heard, it's not as simple as just fighting one another. There are other challenges - the competitors are tested with more than one weapon type, some on and off of horses - or ponies, or war rams, I suppose - and others you have no armour or weapons, and all that are available to you are your hands and your wits. It sounds like a lot of fun to me, especially since Thorin said he'd probably open the contest to both dwarves and men." Alana grinned down at him, catching the slight gleam in the corner of his eyes. "And hey," she murmured, nudging him, "since we're amongst the first to know it's going to be started again, we can get a little practice in early, hey?"

Kili snorted. "Isn't that technically cheating?"

"Not at all! Since the contest hasn't even started yet, we'll simply be... broadening our horizons, so to speak. Training ourselves to better protect ourselves should the need arise."

Laughing, Kili shook his head. "I had no idea you were so dishonest, auntie!"

Alana smirked. "If that's the case, Kili, then you have a _lot_ to learn."

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It wasn't all that long before they had to part ways, heading to complete their 'daily chores', as Kili had not-so-fondly called them. While Kili headed towards Balin's study, Alana headed for the royal family's private library, where Ori would be waiting for her. She hadn't been lying when she said she enjoyed his lessons, as he was a competent and patient teacher, not to mention a dear friend of hers. The days where one of his brothers decided to drop in often made it better, though she would every time tease that the library was 'private' for a reason, at which point Dori would look half-tempted to turn around, and Nori would lightly scoff. She wouldn't put it past him to physically break in to the room if she decided to chuck them out, but everyone knew she never would. They may not have been part of the royal family's direct line, but they were close friends, and they had been given permission to use said library whenever they wanted. There were actually only very few areas in the mountain that remained off-limits to Thorin's original company, and not even she knew about all of those yet.

Since she and Thorin hadn't been given the official nod of approval from his council - they were due to arrive with the rest of the dwarves from the Blue Mountains - they had decided to wait for their wedding. That said, Thorin had gone ahead and publicly declared that they were engaged, and that they _would_ be married. The council's permission was mainly just following tradition - they didn't really have the power to stop Thorin marrying her if that was what he chose, but they both had agreed it would be better for everyone if they could convince the council to approve of it.

Ori was waiting for her when Alana finally arrived, leaving her bow and arrows at the door and tugging off a few of her knives as well. Despite everything they'd been through, Ori still tried to avoid weaponry as much as possible, and politely asked that others do the same in his presence, unless otherwise necessary. Alana was always happy to oblige, especially given all that he was giving to help her.

" ** _Bakn galikh, (Good morning,)_** " Ori greeted her, doing his usual thing where he refused to speak the common tongue unless she truly couldn't work out what he was saying.

" _ **Bakn galikh** ,_" she repeated with a smile. " ** _Zûr zu? (How are you?)_** "

" ** _Abnâmul, yof, (Fine, thanks.)_** " Ori smiled at her in that usual slightly shy manner, pushing some paper towards her. Alana silently grabbed a quill, and he began his lesson. The better she got at speaking and writing, the more he pushed for her to improve at a faster rate. She was definitely up for the challenge, but it sometimes left her feeling frustrated with herself when she struggled more than she felt she should have. Ori continually told her she was progressing faster than he'd thought she would, but Alana often found herself wishing she could do better.

As Ori said simple phrases to her, most of which she had absolutely no trouble mentally translating, she would write them down on the paper in front of her, her hand still getting used to the harshly-angled runes of the dwarves, though she had at least now learnt their peculiar alphabet by heart. Every now and then Ori would strike up a random, casual conversation, and Alana would do her best to keep it going as long as she could. She wasn't great at that yet, still knowing only about half of the rules of the language, but she was good enough that Ori would be able to understand most of what she was saying, and would gently correct whatever she slipped up on.

After two hours their lesson came to an end, and the two friends offered cheerful goodbyes before parting ways. Ori headed back down towards the market, where he and his brothers lived. Despite being offered one of the old noble houses - they were certainly now rich enough to afford it - the Ri brothers instead chose one of the more modest ones where the vast majority of the dwarven population would eventually come to reside. Having grown used to their more cosy surroundings, the large, open spaces found in the larger abodes made them uncomfortable. Thorin was surprisingly understanding, admitting that he too had found it difficult to adjust to a larger room upon returning, but offered up no objections and simply allowed them to chose any of the other houses that took their fancy. They had picked a mid-sized house that was almost exactly in the middle of the space between the royal halls and the market.

Alana's destination was her private room, where a kind young dwarrowdam would be teaching her all her etiquette. Lucia was a noblewoman by birth, though she, like many nobles from Erebor, had spent most of her life living as if she weren't. Still, she had been taught by her parents at a young age how to act and behave like a woman of high birth, and now it was her turn to share this knowledge. Lucia's parents were busy creating their new lives, meaning Lucia was the only one of the family with enough time to spare for their future Queen. Alana liked to think she and Lucia had become good friends, sharing laughter and smiles during their lessons, even if the lessons themselves were borderline torture.

She knocked on the door, even though technically this was one of her rooms and she didn't need to knock, but since she knew Lucia would be in there, apparently she had to. She didn't really understand the logic behind that, but nonetheless did as she was told. She then pushed the door open without waiting for an answer, smiling at the brunette dwarrowdam, who rose to her feet and politely curtseyed (something Alana _still_ hadn't gotten used to, even after two months).

"Hello, Lucia," she greeted. "How was your morning?"

"Excellent, thank you," came Lucia's airy reply as she returned to her seat. Almost all of the dwarves Alana had met had strong, loud voices. Lucia didn't. It made a nice change every now and then, though she knew it wouldn't be a common thing for long. The source of Lucia's light voice was a mystery, and apparently had been something she had been picked on for when she was little. Alana would constantly tell the dam that she liked the sound of her voice, and that she shouldn't think less of herself for it. Lucia would simply smile politely and nod, but they both knew that years of insecurity would not disappear so easily. "How was your hunt with Prince Kili?"

Alana chuckled, seating herself down close to her friend. "Very successful, I'm pleased to say. And it seems that there is to be a healthy new supply of fauns soon. We came across a herd of deer with six pregnant does. Hopefully with the new wildlife, the hunts will be easier in future."

In response, Lucia pulled that cute little face she did when she was trying to smile, but the topic made her slightly uncomfortable. Alana was grateful for that - Lucia was unfamiliar with the sight of blood, and even the thought of it apparently made her a little queasy. It was nice to know there were at least some people in the world who had held on to their innocence, though she dreaded the day the kind dwarrowdam lost hers.

Lucia cleared her throat and smiled, straightening her back and placing her hands demurely in her lap. "Now then, my Lady, shall we get started?"

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Alana groaned as she collapsed onto her bed, her back stiff from maintaining its rigid posture for so long. Normally she'd be able to go back to being a normal human being after her lessons with Lucia, but Thorin had told her that the two of them had to attend a fancy dinner over in Dale. That meant that not only had she been forced into a corseted death trap (though she'd thankfully been able to sneakily loosen some of the ties on the dress to allow her to breathe better), but she'd also had to put Lucia's training into practice by maintaining a polite, straight-backed seating position for the _three hour_ dinner. By the time she and Thorin had said their polite goodbyes her back felt as stiff as a board.

Thorin too had apparently been rather uncomfortable, though he bore his pain much better than she did. On the journey back from Dale he had teased her mercilessly, at which pointed she'd started grumbling at him under her breath. Unfortunately this only proved to further amuse him.

The sun had been absent in the sky for a long time now, and Alana's body was begging for sleep. After quickly rinsing her face with cold water, Alana slipped on her white nightgown and slid under the covers, praying that both she and the others sleeping nearby would all be blessed with dreamless slumbers.

Thankfully, her prayers were answered.


	2. Family Reunions

**A/N: Hellooo! First of all... WOW. My inbox was flooded with alerts for all the favourites and follows and reviews for this and I just... I cannot thank you enough. To know I have such amazing support is really heartening. So thanks :) Anywho, this is a chapter I am very much in love with, as you get to meet the rest of the crew! Yup, introducing the dwarves of the Blue Mountains! Hope you enjoy it ;)**

 **BIG thanks to the following people (and it's a LONG list) for following/favouriting: ro781727, ninibella, nertormer, exyberrysilver, daydreamingbadwolf, caitlin3010, WaterPhoenixRules, Tibblets, TheAmazingMaya, Sugarplumfairy77, StarWarsHarryPotterfangirl2788, Sparky She-Demon, SoraLover987142, Sophia Kaiba, ShelleEverson, SakuraDragomir, SaintsFan1, PurpleIsMyFavorite, MissCallaLilly, Melanina, LittleRedWolf23, Likarian, Kyuubi Koku, Katt8500, Kara70, Intheblood29, Dreamer4life16, Dinosaur Imperial Soldier, CoffeeRanger, BookKeeper88, AinsleeRose, lizziecats, kateshirran, NorthwesternBaby, MrsTChrist, valcha11, jewelofthedawn, Lorelei evans, Aussieshipwhore, the mysterious narrator, StarAvengerWho, animexchick, anduilas, Shadow Operative, MariaM95, JohnnyStormsGirl, GodShynin300, AquaJMGirl, jess114, ilovejoker4ever, Tribute Scott, LycanBeks and (last but not elast) Arianna Le Fay. *deep breath***

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Airedhiella: Aha, yes, all those things. Not all of them straight away, though. Patience... ;) Although the twins thing... we'll see I guess. That bit is still under review. Thanks for all your support! :)**

 **MissCallaLilly: Aww, thanks. Hope this will live up to standard, then... :P**

 **Sparky She-Demon: Pfft... Don't know what you're talking about... Trouble...? Nah... ;) Glad to hear you're enjoying it so far!**

 **Sophia Kaiba: Aww, thanks :) And don't worry, she'll be here. Along with a couple other surprise guests... *nudgenudgewinkwink***

 **Dreamer4life16: Oh my God, I missed you! I thought you'd gone! Hiiiiiii! *waves emphatically* Just stating here, thanks for all your reviews for the last few chapters of AUA. It's always the highlight of my day reading you're stuff. Most of the time, it's completely insane, but I LOVE it :D And thank you for the birthday wishes (I'm still celebrating actually - going out for a nice dinner with the extended family tomorrow). So yes, this story. Don't worry, Fili will have his moments. Many of them. There's actually one I'm planning at the moment, though it probably won't show up for a few chapters. But yeah, Kili's still a little lad by dwarfish terms (not really, but he is still kind of the baby of the group, and so he needs his big sister/aunt hugs), so I wanted to add that in. Besides, he and Aragorn are almost the same person, based on how I've written them. Alana sees that too. And don't worry about the council... ish... maybe... Not really sure yet. We'll see! And yes, there will be little baby feet (and no, it won't be straight away), and yes, Aragorn will return (like... REALLY soon... ;)). And hey, the letters thing will be answered in this chapter (there's a nice clue for you. Can you work it out before it gets there?). As for the title, I can clear that for you here: it's about Alana's secret about her heritage, and the stone bit is just about how she's gonna be the dwarves' Queen (because a lot of them are miners and stuff). No, Thorin has no terrible, terrible secrets ;) Tauriel may or may not be coming back (haven't decided yet - but no, she's not dead). And OH MY GOD CAN YOU IMAGINE A BABY THORIN WITH A STUFFED BEAR?! I AM TOTALLY MAKING THORIN JR HAVE ONE OF THOSE. DON'T LET ME FORGET! :D (Sorry for the essay-length response, but hey, you give a long review, you'll get a long response. Good to have you back :)).**

 **Likarian: Aha, sorry, not so much romance in this one. You'll find out why. But soon, I promise. Thanks for your support! :)**

 **BM originally: Good evening, indeed! I understand your trepidation towards OC-centric stories - they have a risk of going dangerously wrong. Unfortunately, I actually love reading them. Some writers do AMAZING work. So when you reacted the way you did to Alana's character, I maaaaay have been grinning for like ten minutes straight. Or longer... Heh... ;) Seriously though, thank you SO much for giving this series a chance. And I'm sorry about not whumping Thorin XD I'll probably add some of that in a little later. Thanks again, and welcome to the crazy family of followers I appear to have picked up (if you want proof, see above ^^). :)**

 **ro781727: Well, you'll get an answer here.**

 **Guest: Okay, I've sent out a message to the help team (or whatever they're called). Hopefully it'll be fixed soon (about time, I know. Sorry). :)**

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 **'No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendships of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth.' ~ Robert Southey**

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 **Chapter 2:**

A further two months passed, bringing with it the departure of Dain and the dwarves returning with him to the Iron Hills. Erebor's population had continued to grow in size, and trade between the kingdoms of elves, men and dwarves was beginning to flourish.

Things were starting to pick up pace, it was true, but a heaviness still hovered over the inhabitants of the mountain, as the memory of everything they had lost during what had become known as the Battle of the Five Armies remained a constant shadow. There was something of a lull in Alana's life now, as Lucia had deemed her ready to take on her role, having taught her everything she could. Alana's fluency in khuzdul was also improving every day. The most important thing for her, though, was the knowledge that becoming Queen didn't seem quite so daunting anymore. It still terrified her, but she had begun to realise that maybe she would be able to do it, after all.

On the morning of April the 4th, Thorin and Alana could be found in the old council hall, a comfortable silence hanging over them, and the two were standing so close together that they would occasionally brush limbs.

Then the peaceful quiet was broken.

"Thorin! Alana!" On any other day, the heirs of Durin would probably be scolded to the Halls of Waiting and back for tearing through the corridors like madmen, but their bright faces gave them a few extra seconds to explain themselves. It was all they needed. "The first caravans from the Blue Mountains are here!"

Thorin and Alana paused in their perusal of a suggested trade agreement with Rohan, raising their eyes and watching Fili and Kili come to a sudden halt, barely even panting despite having clearly run all the way from the front gate.

Thorin straightened. "How many dwarves have come?"

"A hundred, at least!" came Kili's excited reply. "We thought we saw _**amad**_ and Cinna, and Raylin and Gimli too."

Thorin nodded. "I want you both to fetch Bombur and Gloin, and anyone else who wants to join in with greeting them. We'll meet you down by the main gate."

The two nodded, and then disappeared off in a flash. Alana turned to Thorin with a bright smile. "Dís is here?"

"Aye, it would seem so."

"And the others? Raylin, Gimli and... Cinna, was it?"

Thorin nodded. "Raylin and Gimli are Gloin's wife and son, respectively. Cinna is Bombur's wife. No doubt she'll have brought all their children along too."

Alana chuckled. "All nine of them."

Huffing, Thorin nodded again, offering his arm as the two left the council hall, which she immediately accepted. "Indeed. You have a difficult task ahead of you, learning all their names."

Alana scoffed. "Oh, that's easy: Balur, Binur, Bomfur, Bambur, Bunbur, Biftur, Renna, Finna and Mayra." She winked at him when he shot her a shocked look. "I memorised them ages ago," she told him blithely. "I knew - well, hoped, really - that one day I'd meet them."

"So you knew the names of Bombur's children, but not Gloin's son, nor either of their wives?"

Alana shrugged. "Somehow Bombur's wife never came up. Not by name, anyway. And Gloin... well, Kili warned me at Beorn's never to ask him about his family. Apparently he has a habit of talking your ear off about them."

Chuckling, Thorin nodded. "Aye, they're his pride and joy, it can't be denied."

"And I don't blame him," she said quickly, realising how her previous statement could have been perceived. "But I don't know him as well as perhaps I'd like, despite being an honourable part of his family." She paused. "Oh, Mahal, how are they going to react when they see my braids?"

Thorin chuckled, patting the hand on his arm comfortingly. "Relax, **_atamanel_** , it'll be fine. They might be surprised at first, but they'll know it was for nothing less than because you deserve it. With a little time, they'll no doubt come to love you as well, and be glad it happened."

"I hope you're right." Letting out a long sigh, Alana shook her head and let the matter drop. Then she almost instantly brightened, her very aura become charged and excitable. "I can't believe I'm finally about to meet your sister!"

"A moment in history if ever there was one," Thorin grumbled, and she honestly couldn't tell if he was being serious or not.

The two continued on in silence, offering polite nods of greeting to those they crossed paths with on the way. Alana still couldn't get used to being bowed to or treated with respect, but it was far better than the reactions she used to get - the ones when people jumped out of her path or spat foul names her way when they thought she was beyond the range of hearing. She still got the occasional twisted or sour or disdainful glance, but there was less of a negative reaction to her presence at Thorin's side than she thought; at least among the people. The elderly members of the council - when they arrived - would likely prove themselves to be far harder to convince.

Upon reaching the main gates, Alana thought that Kili's estimation of there being a hundred dwarves was a gross understatement. "That must be at least half the dwarves in the whole of Middle Earth!" she murmured.

Thorin chuckled. "We're dwindling in number, aye, but we are not yet so few that we face extinction. I reckon that's about twice Kili's initial guess - and significantly less than a quarter of all the dwarves in the Blue Mountains, I'd wager."

Alana smiled. "I can't believe there are so many coming here!"

With a twitch of his lips, Thorin glanced up at her. She seemed in awe of his - soon to be _their_ \- people, and it warmed his heart to know she had grown to love the dwarves so much. There weren't many outside their own race who trusted them, let alone befriended or came to love them. It was just another thing that separated Alana from the rest of mankind, he supposed, and he couldn't have been more grateful for it.

"Come," he said at length. "We should be down there to greet them."

Alana beamed down at him, and quickly pulled ahead of him with her long and determined strides. He let her go, knowing he would be moving that quickly too, were his legs a little longer.

" _ **Amad**_ _!_ " Before either of them could reach the door, their nephews eagerly rushed past them, barrelling into the brown haired dwarrowdam at the front of the approaching crowd. With amused expressions, Alana and Thorin stopped a little further back, allowing the boys to reunite with their mother.

When she saw Dís for the first time, Alana couldn't say she was surprised. An image had already been formed in her head of what the dam would look like, and it turned out to be very close to reality. Her hair was as thick and smooth as the rest of her family's, with various braids interwoven with the dark locks. Her eyes were a shade of brown identical to Kili's, and her face was adorned with neatly trimmed sideburns and just the hint of a beard on her chin. Despite how peculiar Alana found it to see a woman with facial hair, it suited Dís completely, and suddenly she couldn't imagine the dwarrowdam without it. Dís was shorter than both her sons, but was as broad and strong as they were, and was clearly absolutely crushing them with the force of her hug.

"Oh, my boys!" she cried, tugging them even closer. To the side, Alana caught sight of Bombur rushing to meet a handsome blonde and their nine young children, who all but swarmed around their parents as they reunited. Just beyond them, Gloin was locked in a tight embrace with a redhead, and a young dwarf who was undoubtedly his son was stood to the side, smiling in contentment. Alana turned her attention back to Dís just as the she pulled back from her sons. "So much for your promise to write to me!" she huffed. "You might as well have disappeared off the face of the earth! No letters, not even a measly note saying 'We're fine'! It's as if you exist just to worry me to death!" Then she pulled them into a fierce hug again.

"Sorry, _**amad**_ ," Kili murmured with a fond smile. "But we've barely had the time."

Dís scoffed, and a chuckle escaped Alana's lips. Thorin sent her a puzzled look, but she just winked at him, only serving to confuse him even more. "'Barely' is more than enough," Dís chided, then smiled and pressed two sloppy kisses to the tops of their heads, before turning to Thorin and Alana. "And you!" she scolded, eyes narrowed on Thorin. He was clearly trying to hide a smirk as he stepped forward to meet her. "You're no better! Stealing my sons away on this Mahal-forsaken quest!"

"You hardly seemed to protest when we left," he countered with a genuine smile that Dís obviously wanted to mirror, but was fighting off expertly. "In fact, with half the chance, I'm sure you would have come with us."

"Only to keep an eye on you!" she retorted. "Deny it all you want, brother, but I have saved your sorry hide more than once over the years."

"Aye, that you have." And then he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, and she willingly reciprocated. No more words were needed, and the two simply stood together in silence for a moment, silently reassuring each other that everything was okay.

Fili and Kili were positively beaming at the reunited siblings, and Alana was equally happy, though was also barely stopping herself from bouncing in excitement. She'd been waiting for this moment ever since their stay with Beorn, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't a little impatient. At long last, the hug broke, and Dís turned her eyes towards Alana.

"And I suppose you must be Alana," she mused with a smile, much to the obvious shock of the other three.

Alana nodded and smirked. "You have no idea how glad I am to finally meet you in person, Dís," she said, her smirk shifting into a grin. "I hope you made it here without trouble."

"Nothing we couldn't handle, I assure you," came the blithe reply. Then she drew herself to her full (though not especially impressive) height and stated with purpose, "You have a promise to uphold, my Lady."

"Likewise, my Lady."

The two grinned at one another, and then embraced like old friends. They pulled back after several seconds, and Dís clasped Alana's hands between her own. "Thank you for keeping them safe. I will never be able to repay you for that."

"Believe me, your friendship is payment enough," Alana responded with a smile. "Now, I think we have some explaining to do."

"Not just yet," Dís murmured, her grin quickly becoming mischievous. Alana narrowed her eyes, knowing that face all too well, because both her sons mirrored it to perfection on a regular basis. "I made a quick detour on the way here," Dís explained, glancing behind her. "And picked one or two people up as I did."

Curious, Alana peered around the dwarrowdam. At first she didn't see anything of particular import, but then a familiar head popped out from behind a wagon, and her face lit up. "Estel!"

"Alana!" The young boy ran up to her with a bright beam, and Alana wasted no time in scooping him up into her arms and spinning him around. "I've missed you," he murmured into her hair.

"I've missed you, too," she responded softly. She then put him down, and almost immediately frowned. She placed her hand on the top of his head and then moved it to the place in line with that height on her body. "You've grown," she noted, bemused. "You've grown a lot."

"Six inches," he stated proudly, and grinned up at her. "I'm going to be as tall as you one day!"

Alana laughed. "You'll be as tall as _adar_ if you're not careful. He was a good few inches taller than I am." Then Alana glanced up to see her mother making her way towards them. While Aragorn turned to Fili and Kili, all but leaping on them, Alana approached her mother and pulled her into a warm hug. "Hello, _naneth_."

Gilraen smiled softly at her daughter when they pulled back from one another, the blonde woman brushing aside a few of Alana's stray locks of hair. "You have aged," Gilraen noted with a touch of sorrow. "Your eyes are not so young anymore."

"I've experienced a lot," Alana admitted. "Some of it wasn't so pleasant."

"But you're okay? You're unharmed?"

"I'm alright, I promise." Alana smiled at her mother, drawing her into another embrace, before turning to Dís with the same gentle expression on her face. "Thank you, _mellon nín_."

Dís nodded. "I could hardly resist after you told me so much about them, your brother especially," she explained. "And anyway, this is going to be your home now - they'll have had to visit at some point."

Alana chuckled. "You're not wrong."

"Would you mind explaining exactly _how_ you two know each other?" Thorin grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose, as if the whole affair was giving him a headache. Which, she supposed, was not beyond the realm of possibility.

Smirking, Alana asked, "Do you remember all those letters I kept writing?"

"Are you talking about the ones that you kept hiding from us, and refusing to say who they were from?" Fili asked, resting a hand on the Aragorn's shoulder, and Kili was doing the same on his other side. It made for an odd sight, especially seeing as - once Thorin and Alana got married - Fili and Kili would technically be Aragorn's nephews through marriage. She liked to think they'd develop more of a sibling relationship though, and that it wouldn't matter to any of them.

Nodding, Alana gestured to Dís. "Well, here's the answer to your curiosity."

"All that time, you were writing to my _sister?_ " Thorin asked in astonishment.

Dís snorted in a very un-ladylike manner. "There's no need to sound so insulted, _**nadad**_. At first she was simply keeping me updated on your progress, guessing quite correctly that you'd not put ink to paper since the moment you left the Blue Mountains. So," here, she looked over at her suddenly sheepish sons, "I know you most certainly could have made the time to write if you'd wanted to."

"It wasn't long before our conversations changed to be more personal," Alana added in with a smile. "I would keep her informed of what we were doing, of course, but we'd also talk about other things. Our families, our hobbies and interests - things like that. She became my friend before I'd ever even met her."

Dís smiled softly at the woman. "Likewise," she muttered, the two sharing a grin with one another. "Now," she said with that no-nonsense air once more, "let's get everyone inside and settled. There should be another caravan on the way a few days behind us, so we've certainly got our work cut out for us."

Thorin chuckled. "Do you think me completely incompetent, Dís?" he asked. "We began organising rooms and houses the moment we knew you would be coming."

"Well, perhaps not that early," the Ranger tagged on, shrugging. "We had to deal with the carnage after the battle first, not to mention the mess that dear old Smaug left for us."

Dís huffed. "Clearly you've been busy," she noted with equal parts approval and scolding. "In all that time, how much time have you had to rest?"

"Unfortunately, until we can be sure the mountain is safe and secure, we have little time to take rest beyond sleeping at night," Thorin muttered, offering his arm and escorting Dís into the mountain, Alana walking just behind with Aragorn, who grabbed her hand without hesitation and then beamed up at her when she cast him a bemused look; and Fili and Kili took up the rear, offering Gilraen escorting arms after waving over at Gimli, who waved back. Gimli's expression was hard to read, but Alana knew then that she had caught his attention. What possessed her to do such a thing, she wasn't sure, but when their eyes met she lifted two fingers and lazily saluted, before turning to face forward once more and consequently missing the bewildered expression that flashed across his face.

There were already dwarves bustling about, gathering belongings and leading the new arrivals into their designated homes. The houses closest to the market had all been repaired and cleaned, and restored in such a way that no one house was better than another. Their layouts may have been different, but each was perfect for starting a new life. A few of the more well-to-do dwarves were directed towards the houses of the nobles, a few levels up from the market. These were obviously grander and usually older too, but Thorin made sure they were not any more lavishly decorated than those by the market. If the noble families wished to make their homes look fancier, that was their choice, but it would not be the burden of others to do the work for them.

"It feels different to how I remember it," Dís noted with a pensive frown. "Do you get that feeling, Thorin?"

"A little," he admitted. "But we are not as young, nor as innocent as we were back then. And we have duties we did not used to have. I feel safe in these walls, as I always used to, but I know there is always a chance of an attack, and I find I cannot completely relax just yet."

Dís hummed thoughtfully. "I don't think that is it," she said after a moment, "but I do know what you mean."

"Perhaps it's simply because you are working from memory," Alana suggested. Dís glanced curiously back at her. "Nothing is ever quite as we remember it. Our minds always change things - small things, usually - but they are enough to make the experience a little different to what we expect."

"Bambur!"

Alana let out a surprised sound when a little body suddenly collided with her legs, and she glanced down to see a small dwarfling smiling toothily at her. He was cute, with a hairless, round face and bright orange hair that was without braids. His eyes were bright green, staring at her with intense curiosity. "Are you a man?" he asked her.

"Bambur!" Bombur's wife, Cinna, was obviously both embarrassed by and angry at her child, but Alana just waved a hand to say it was fine.

She knelt down in front of the dwarf and quietly explained, "I am from the race of men, yes, but I am a woman. You must be careful, little one, for not every woman would be as understanding towards you should you make this mistake again." Then with a smile she gently poked his nose, causing his face to scrunch up adorably.

He sniffed a few times, obviously still feeling a phantom of her little prod, and then grinned. "Okay, I understand, I think." He then stepped back and bowed. "Bambur, at your service."

Alana grinned and bowed back once she'd straightened. "Alana, at yours and your family's." She winked down at him when he beamed at her, before Cinna rushed forward and ushered him away.

Alana heard the blonde quietly scolding him as they left. "Honestly, Bambur, your curiosity will get you into a heap of trouble one day! How many times must I tell you?! You can't just _run into_ people. And the future Queen, no less!"

"Lady Cinna," Alana called, and the fretful blonde paused, turning to face Alana with an apprehensive face. "I truly didn't mind. Please, don't be too hard on him."

Cinna released a long breath, then nodded. "As you wish, my Lady." Then she tilted her head to the side in polite farewell, and then whisked Bambur away again (though not before he could spin around and wave jovially at the Ranger, who returned it with an amused smile).

Alana turned back to find everyone staring at her with various expressions on their faces. Her mother, Fili and Aragorn were all smiling, Kili looked like he was trying to hold back laughter, Thorin's expression was unexpectedly tender, and Dís looked like she'd just come up with some wicked scheme that Alana had a feeling she'd be the unfortunate victim of.

Alana narrowed her eyes at the dwarrowdam. "What?" she asked warily.

"Oh, nothing," came the airy reply, though Dís' eyes remained alight with mischief. "Just got a little lost in thought."

"Uh huh."

Alana was understandably doubtful, knowing the Durins well enough now to know when one of them was up to something, but she also knew that trying to push the subject would only prove to be a waste of energy, so she let the subject drop. Still, she knew she would have to keep a wary eye on the dwarrowdam, just to make sure she wasn't caught off-guard by something, because if Dís was anything like her sons (and Alana would bet an awful lot of money that she was), then she was quite possibly in for a whole heap of mischief.


	3. The Collapse

**A/N: Some action-y things in this one. And some fluff. And just general things happening... :) Not much to say, except I hope you enjoy!**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: Kasca Black, SamandJake, CheekyLittleFoxy, littlebirdy123, jmk65642, Lissy7 and IfYouRememberMe.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Sophia Kaiba: Haha, yeah, lots of adorable-ness :)**

 **Airedhiella: Hmmm... maybe...? ;)**

 **Sparky She-Demon: Yup, he most certainly is. Wouldn't you, in his shoes? It's weird to think of Thorin as mischievous, but I think you might be right. Especially before Frerin died.**

 **StarAvengerWho: Aha, yeah, that seems to be a pretty popular opinion :P**

 **Dreamer4life16: *deep breath* Awwwwwwwww... :) Nice to know these answers make you smile (though to be honest, part of me is suspicious its just because it means another update... hmmm...). And yes, don't stop the crazy! That's what makes this so fun! I could go for a birthyear, however I don't think life will be able to help with my plans. Thankfully, most of my friends are turning 18 this year, sooo that means I can have lots of fun there, too. But yeah, the really funny thing is that, while I was planning an Alana/Fili moment, my mind instantly went 'oh hey, look, you can put some more Kili/Alana bonding in here!'... so yeah, there's another of those coming up as well... XP I can't help myself! As for the council, if it helps, they're not ALL douchebags ;) Okay, okay, but imagine Thorin Jr being grumpy and pouty, and then Fili or Kili pull out this old teddy bear that they had when they were little, and then BAM! Happy baby Thorin! That would kill me. And I'm writing this stuff. The letters! Yes, her excitement was the clue! Nicely worked out. And who knows, maybe it was kinky...? Pfft, nah, but it's a fun thought ;) And yes, you are weird when you're tired, BUT, that's a good thing. Except that you're tired. Go take a nap or something. Dream of baby Thorin chewing the ear of a teddy bear, and Kili and Alana teaching Aragorn how to hunt, and (adult) Thorin being awkward around his future wife's mother, and... I don't know... Legolas, or something ;) As ever, I hope you like the chapter, and especially the few fluffy moments in there ;)**

 **Rohirrim Girl 2178: Well, there's a little fluffiness in this one, but as adorableness goes, there's not so much in this. Still, glad you enjoyed the last chapter ;)**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Hello! :) Yeah, life does that. She's a bitch. And I think I will forever love that phrase: 'Thorin needs his babies' XD**

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 **'Courage - a perfect sensibility of the measure of danger, and a mental willingness to endure it.' ~ William Tecumseh Sherman**

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 **Chapter 3:**

Dís settled remarkably well into the mountain, accepting her new duties as the Princess of Erebor with admirable grace and without an ounce of complaint. Aragorn and Gilraen also seemed comfortable there, though they occasionally showed signs of homesickness, and Alana knew that, as much as they were starting to appreciate Erebor, Rivendell would always be their home. She couldn't begrudge them that if she tried.

Overall, the arrivals from the Blue Mountains certainly proved to liven things up within Erebor's thick walls, and Alana couldn't say for sure whether it was for the better.

Though it had gotten better in recent weeks, their food supplies were still a little 'come and go', and sometimes they would have excesses of food, and other times shortages. Every now and then Kili and Alana still had to wander beyond Erebor's borders for a morning hunt, and with a greater number of people within Erebor, they were hard-pressed to catch enough meat to feed everyone. More often than not, they would have to wander out during the afternoon as well as the morning, just to keep up with the demand. Neither could find it in them to complain much, as they got to spend their time in the wild and away from the sometimes stifling duties they had been given as monarchs-to-be. Still, after a while they began to miss the times when they would be able to spend lunch with their family and friends, and while they were happy to spend time with one another, they both agreed a new arrangement would have to be made before too long.

Thorin's council were in the second group to arrive from the Blue Mountains, and as soon as they appeared, plans began for Thorin's official coronation as King, and Fili and Kili's coronations as his heirs. After those took place, Thorin and Alana would work together to convince the council to allow them to marry.

Everything was happening at once, and Alana found herself suddenly quite overwhelmed. She had met the council members only once, and even then to call it a 'meeting' was perhaps a little generous. Many were grey or white haired, and most looked like they hadn't smiled in years - at least not genuinely. Balin was of course a member of the group of twelve (including Thorin), and she knew that having his support would be invaluable. She would be lying, though, if she said she wasn't intimidated by the rest of them, with their grim faces and hard eyes.

A week after the arrival of the last of the dwarves coming from the Blue Mountains, Alana was neck-deep in plans for Thorin's coronation. As a nod to her, and a show of his faith in her abilities, Thorin had suggested that Alana take over most of the planning for the event. She was more than up for the challenge, and was happy to bring Dís into the process. Dís' main role was simply to ensure that a few of the more specific traditions were included. Everything else was entirely up to Alana.

The coronation was to take place in the celebration hall, which Alana had found by mere chance upon first arriving at the mountain. Usually such an event would happen in the main throne hall, however with so many people expected to attend, there wasn't space enough for it to be done in there. Alana had amassed a team of thirty-two to have everything ready - from banners to candles, food to crowns, everything was for her to decide. Thorin obviously had his crown, as it was the one that had been Thror's once, so very long ago. But Kili and Fili were having theirs freshly made, and apparently that meant she had to design those, too.

"Alana!"

Alana tried to hold back her little groan, as she had just been about to call it a night. She turned with a polite smile which quickly became warm and genuine as she beheld one of her friends heading towards her. "Hello, Bofur," she greeted in return. "What can I do for you, my friend?"

"There's been a collapse in the mines!" he reported urgently.

Alana's eyes widened. "What?!"

The two raced out of the room, darting past anyone they came across, all of whom wore the same confused expression. At first everything was fine, but the closer they got to the mines, the greater trouble they had battling their way through the crowd. Many dwarves were milling about, not really sure what to do. When they finally saw Alana coming, they began to clear a path for her, which meant she and Bofur could pick up the pace again.

It wasn't long before they came across a large group of dwarves in the entrance of the mines. Thorin and Dwalin were there with them, both of them sending Bofur grateful looks as Alana got closer. "What happened?" Alana asked without preamble.

"We think one of the old mine shafts was structurally weakened during Smaug's assault," Dwalin informed her.

Alana frowned. "But I thought all of the mines were checked."

"Clearly something was missed," Thorin muttered.

Alana shook her head, frown deepening. She turned her attention to the man in charge of the mines; an elderly dwarf called Tharik. "Was there anyone down there?"

He furrowed his thick brows. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?! You're in charge of the mines, and the people who work in them! They're under your care. How can you not know?"

"Alana-" Thorin began, but she cut him off with a look.

Alana spun around and addressed the crowd clearly. "Does anyone here know who was in the bit that collapsed, if anyone?"

"Hothir and Boric were down there," one dwarf called, his face covered in soot.

"Aye, Rubin, too!"

Swearing harshly under her breath, Alana turned to Bofur, bending down and murmuring in his ear, "Get Oin. Tell him to bring my medical pack." With a puzzled expression, Bofur nodded and scampered away. She turned back to the others. "Do we know what's of interest down there?"

"From what we can tell," Thorin muttered, "it's at the entryway to the part of the mine that links to an old gold vein."

"How close can we get to it?"

Dwalin and Tharik recoiled at the mere thought of getting closer, but Thorin seemed unbothered. She supposed he knew her best of anyone at this point, and probably actually expected that response. "Without a significant safety risk? No further than where we're standing. Otherwise, the closest we can get is the point of the collapse. The path is blocked as far as we can tell."

Alana nodded. "I want to see it."

"Wha-?!" Tharik spluttered. "Lady Alana, I-"

"If there is even the slightest chance that there are dwarves on the other side of that collapse then we have to work as fast as we can to get to them," she cut in, eyes flashing. "The only way to do that is to go down there." She tilted her head to the side. "I am perfectly happy to find it myself, but it will be a lot faster if someone leads the way."

Thorin smirked almost to himself, before tilting his head to the side. "I think I remember where it is," he stated calmly, before turning and leading the way. Dwalin followed immediately, but Tharik remained behind, his mouth agape.

"You'd think someone who's been placed in charge of this place would be less afraid of wandering in," Alana grumbled, glancing covertly over her shoulder at the older dwarf, who had at that point turned his back.

Thorin chuckled. "He's experienced," he told her, "but perhaps he's not suicidal. Is that such a bad thing? Not all of us have a death wish."

Alana snorted. "Still convinced I want to die, huh?"

"It's not an unfair assumption to make. You're almost as reckless as Kili."

Alana let out an exaggerated gasp. "You take that back!"

Both dwarves laughed at her playful behaviour, before their mood fell. The point of the cave-in was closer to the surface than Alana had thought, and as they rounded a corner they came across it. Alana eyed the wall of crumbled stone contemplatively. "There's a small enough gap at the top," she mused. "That's a good place to start if we want to move these rocks."

"We can't know for sure we won't cause another collapse," Thorin pointed out with a frown. "It may be more dangerous to try to move it."

"So you think we should let those dwarves stay trapped behind the wall?"

"I didn't say that." Thorin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The only way to be sure of how sound it is would be to check the foundation rock on the other side. Unfortunately, we can't get over there."

Alana eyed the gap and murmured, "I might be able to."

Thorin's eyes widened, and he whirled on her. "No! Absolutely not. Alana, you cannot go over!"

"And why not?" she challenged, frowning. "If we need to look on the other side, and we have someone capable of getting over there, why the hell shouldn't we try?"

Thorin scowled. "Because another collapse might happen. This rock was clearly already fragile enough. You could trapped over there."

Alana sighed patiently. "Do you not think it worth the risk?"

"I will not lose you," Thorin growled, his face darkening at the thought.

"And I will not abandon the people who are down there!" Alana shot back, nostrils flaring. "Those dwarves will have wives and children. I cannot simply turn around without trying, Thorin! If I go over, I can check the quality of the stone, and I can try to find the other dwarves. I can bring them back. If you get to work shifting these rocks, we might be able to make a big enough gap that everyone can get back safely. We don't have to dig out the whole path completely before then."

Thorin exhaled loudly, then glanced at Dwalin. The bald dwarf was stood with his arms folded and a resigned expression on his face. He shrugged. "I don't like it," he admitted, "but right now it's the only plan we've got."

With another sigh, Thorin met Alana's steady gaze, and nodded reluctantly. "Fine," he allowed. "But at the first sign of something going wrong, I want you to get back to us. No unnecessary heroics, got it?"

Biting back her quip in the face of his serious expression, Alana nodded. "It'll be okay, Thorin," she tried to reassure him, but by the twisted expression on his face, it hadn't helped in the slightest. She sent Dwalin as subtle a look as she could manage, a pleading edge to her gaze. With an understanding grunt, Dwalin tilted his head to the side and left, giving the two of them time to talk alone. Alana knelt down in front of Thorin and gently took his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. There was a distinct sadness in his eyes, a concern that seemed to be clawing him apart from the inside. "We must all take risks sometimes, Thorin," she murmured, and he sighed, letting his eyes flicker to the ground. "Would you not do the same, if you could?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "I would," he agreed. "But I cannot stop myself worrying for your safety."

Alana smiled softly, her eyes shining with love and understanding. "I know. I would be the same in your shoes. But I must do this, because right now, I'm the only one who can. The only other option would be finding a child - your race are simply too stocky."

Thorin let a tiny smile grace his lips at that, recognising both the tease in her words, and the hint of pride in his kind. Alana truly loved his people, and it was that love that drove her to do this - he knew it, and yet he still feared for her life. He was selfish enough to want her to stay, to keep her by his side despite the need for her to go. But he knew she was right - they couldn't leave those dwarves down there. Not while they had the power to save them. So he placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs brushing the underside of her jaw, before he ducked his head and pressed his lips against hers.

She responded immediately, her hands moving to tangle in his hair, as they often did. Her lips were soft and there was no rush to the kiss, simply raw emotion and love, and he would not have it any other way. She simultaneously filled him with courage and heightened his fear, reminding him of her strength, and how much he would lose is she failed. But he had faith in her, and knew she would do all in her power to come back to him. So he would let her go in there.

Alana was the first to pull away, though she remained close enough that her breath still caressed his face when she exhaled. Her blue eyes met his, bright and shining, and she smiled. "I love you, Thorin."

"I love you too," he whispered, kissing her quickly again. "Come back to me," he added, not caring that there was a pleading edge to his voice.

She blinked, then her face softened even more and she nodded. "I will. You have my word." Then she stood up straight again, and after pressing another kiss on his lips, followed by a second on his forehead, she turned back to the entrance to the mine. She sucked in a determined breath, then began climbing up. There wasn't far to go, the corridor being about ten feet tall, but she had to be careful not to disturb the fallen rock. At the top she paused and waited, making Thorin frown in confusion. "I asked Bofur to get my medical bag," she explained. "If anyone's hurt on the other side, I'll need it."

He nodded, and the two waited patiently, though not for long. Barely a minute later Bofur rushed in, Oin and Dwalin by his side. The three dwarves froze when they saw her, before Oin approached the wall and carefully threw her bag up to her. She grinned and chucked it through the gap, before eyeing it appraisingly. Up close, she began to doubt whether or not she'd truly fit through, it being barely a foot tall, but she grit her teeth and went ahead anyway. First one foot, then the other, and then - using the ceiling to help - she pushed the rest of her body through the gap. She dropped down on the other side, glad to see there were lit torches on this side of the wall.

"Alana?" Thorin called.

"I'm okay," she assured him, picking up her medical pack. She glanced up at the ceiling, noting there was a long, wide crack in the rock that stretched at least six feet away from the existing rockfall. "The roof rock here is a little damaged," she admitted, "but I think it should hold." She glanced at the walls, noting they seemed perfectly strong still. One of the wooden beams they'd put in to help keep the roof up had begun sagging on the left side, but she didn't think that would be a problem for a while. "Get to work on clearing some of those rocks. I'll head in and find the others."

"Be careful," was Thorin's low response.

Alana couldn't help but grin. "Always am." From the other side of the wall, she heard a doubtful snort, and chuckled to herself. Then she turned around and picked up one of the torches on the wall, keeping a firm grip on the wood and then making her way through the tunnels.

As she delved deeper, her lungs began to burn dully. The heavy air was thick with dust and tiny specks of crumbled stone, and they caught in her throat, making it scratchy and sore. Regardless of this, Alana continued onwards, following the pathway created by lit torches and ignoring the dark tunnels that branched off. She walked for what seemed like hours, her torch her only constant companion, before she came across another collapse. She paused, eyeing the rock closely. There was no gap for her to crawl through this time, and the majority of the stones were far too heavy for her to move on her own.

A frown flickered onto her face as she wandered what to do, but then her ears caught something. Closing her eyes, she let herself focus on the sound. After a few seconds, she honed in on it. A voice, she was sure. Deep and gruff, and scared. Her eyes snapped open, and she pressed herself close to the wall of rock.

"Hello?" she called. The voice on the other side paused, but she received no reply. "Hello?" She tried again, raising her voice a little more this time.

The sound was muffled by the rock, but she managed to figure it out anyway. "Is someone there?"

She laughed in relief. "Yes! Yes, I'm here. Are you okay? Is anyone hurt?"

"We're okay," came the reply. "Boric has a gash on his forehead, but he's fine."

"How many of you are down there?" she asked.

"Five," he answered. "We can't get out of here - this is the only pathway here, and we can't risk another fall."

Alana bit her lip in thought, eyeing the wall. She noticed a smaller rock on the edge, hesitated, and then carefully pried it free. None of the other rocks shifted, but she noticed there was a gap in the rock now. "On your left wall," she called, "about two feet from the edge, three feet up from the ground, there's a rock. Can you move it?"

"Why?"

"If you can move it, we might be able to make a gap in the wall to talk through."

"Okay, we'll see what we can do." There was some mutterings from the other side that she couldn't decipher, and then the sound of shifting stone. She peered through the gap she'd made, and was delighted to note there was light coming through. A few more grunts and heaves later, and the rock blocking her sight rolled away. A moment later, a grubby, tired-looking face popped into view. The pair of bright green eyes staring back at her widened in shock. "L-Lady Alana?"

"Just Alana is okay," she stated with a smile. Then she became serious. "What's your name?"

"Cardac, son of Cardin," he replied with a crooked grin. "At your service."

Alana chuckled, then became serious. "What supplies have you got in there?"

He shook his head. "Not a lot," he admitted. "We were only supposed to be in here for a few hours."

Alana nodded and quickly began searching through her medical pack, before pulling out two full waterskins of water. She hesitated, pondering over whether to keep one for herself, but, she reminded herself, she still had access to the surface if she needed to go back for anything. She turned to the hole in the wall and caught Cardac's attention again. "Here," she said, passing the two waterskins through the whole. "I don't know how long this'll last you, so ration it carefully."

He nodded gratefully as he grabbed the skins. "Thank you." He paused, then looked up again. "La- Alana," he cut himself off, grinning sheepishly as she shot him a pointed look. "We... We'll be okay for now, but... Hothir's little lad is missing."

Alana froze, her eyes widening. "What? What's a child doing down here?"

Cardac winced. "The boy asked to see what his _**adad**_ did, so Hothir brought him with him, but during the collapse the lad disappeared. He's not here; that's all we know."

Alana pursed her lips, then stated with conviction, "I'll find him. See if you can find a way to make this hole bigger, but be careful. Don't do anything if you think the ceiling might cave again. If you manage to get yourselves out of there, don't wait for me. I'll make it back in my own time, okay?"

Cardac nodded, and the two turned away from the wall. With a light curse, Alana began making her way back along the path she'd walked to get down here. Pausing at the first dark corridor leading away from the main route, Alana considered her options. She'd passed as least six of these on the way down, but what were the chances of the boy heading down one of those? He wouldn't want to wander too far from his father, she wouldn't have thought, so she took a risk and headed along the darkened hallway, lighting the torches on the wall as she did.

The air down here was cleaner somehow; fresher, less stale. Her lungs were grateful for the reprieve, but Alana wondered why it changed. She continued to walk, the path thankfully not splitting up, before she paused. Ahead, it looked like the path just... ended. Not that there was a dead end, but rather that the tunnel came to an end, opening up into something much larger. A faint light was coming from whatever lay at the end of the tunnel, and with a confused frown on her face, Alana headed towards it.

She came to a shuddering halt when she beheld the sight in front of her. In a way, it reminded her of the weaving bridges and platforms she'd seen in Goblin Town, except these were carved from stone and were far less random in their placement. She had wandered into a sheer, underground ravine, the walls gleaming under the light of her torch, and the silver moonbeams filtering through gaps in the stone above. All around her she saw glittering gemstones of all kinds - rubies, sapphires, emeralds, diamonds - and for a moment her breath was stolen from her body.

She wasn't usually particularly impressed by gems and jewels; though they were pretty, she often believed people put too much value on them. But here, now, in the presence of so many and so much, she became painfully aware of their splendour, and suddenly she saw them in a new light. The rawness of the gems, and beautiful arcs of coloured light they threw off; they were truly stunning.

Alana shook off her awe, glancing around for any sign of life. There was nothing out of place - no stray torches, no moving shadows. With a sigh she continued onward, crossing the narrow stone bridge she'd come across, hoping against hope that she would find this boy before either of them got into danger. But even as she walked, worry began to grow in the pit of her stomach.


	4. The Origin Of Bravery

**A/N: Helooo! I know this is a little later than usual, but my uncle and aunt are visiting, so I've been quite busy (this on top of my usual college days, of course). Anyway, I hope you enjoy the second part of the mine scene. :)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: TwilightMelodic, Forruin, LunaVersipellis, AnimeNut47 and kurayamitenshi25.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **silverhawk88: No, of course they wouldn't. If they were going to, it probably would have been done under Thror's rule. I figured the dwarves would have enough appreciation for such a raw sight that they wouldn't just dig it up. :)**

 **ro781727: Ah, sorry :/ To be totally honest thought, I personally didn't think of it as much of a cliff-hangar. You're not the only one that seems to disagree with me though.**

 **Guest: 'Need' and 'want' are two very different words. No, they don't _need_ an heir, and my current plan is to keep Fili as Thorin's heir regardless of whether or not they have any children. Honestly, haven't planned that far ahead yet, in detail. We'll see, I suppose.**

 **StarAvengerWho: Haha, sorry. Honestly wasn't intentional XD Glad to hear you enjoyed it, though :)**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: 'Squishiness' XD Something tells me, were he to hear you say that, Thorin wouldn't be very impressed. Glad you enjoyed it so much, though :)**

 **Sparky She-Demon: Yup, should do... ;)**

 **Dreamer4life16: Yeah, I sometimes think I don't write enough descriptive scenes, so when I do, I really try to get it perfect. And hey, don't worry, they'll be some more Thorin/Alana fluff in this one, and I have some special plans for the start of the next one ;) You'll be meeting the council soon enough, so the mystery will be gone then. As much as I like the idea of Thorin doing some royal ass-kicking, I think I prefer the thought of Alana standing up and challenging them to a duel, or something (probably won't happen, but it makes for an interesting image...) XD**

* * *

 **'Curing the sick and saving lives, no matter where, are the kind of inter-people activities that cannot be matched or measured by money or anything in kind.' ~ Zhang Yong**

* * *

 **Chapter 4:**

Progress at the source of the collapse was slower than Thorin would have liked. It had been almost two hours since Alana had disappeared over the top of it, and they had heard no sign of anyone on the other side ever since. She hadn't returned, nor had anyone else, and - while he was trying to hold on to the overwhelming confidence he felt in her abilities to look after not just herself, but others as well - Thorin could feel the edge of panic creeping over him.

They had been incredibly careful moving away the rocks at the source of the collapse, taking Alana's cautionary words to heart. The size of many of the rocks was what made their progress so slow - the sheer weight of each boulder would require multiple dwarves to dislodge, and doing so meant potentially shaking the foundation rock enough to weaken it further. In order to avoid this, Thorin had ordered that the boulders be broken into smaller pieces, so they could be moved more safely. Unfortunately, this meant each boulder took around twenty minutes to completely move, and his nerves were beginning to fray at the edges.

He glanced over to the right when Dwalin put a heavy hand on his shoulder. "She'll be okay, Thorin," his friend assured him for the fifth time, but Thorin could not bring himself to completely believe it. "We both know what she's been through. This, by comparison, is nothing."

Thorin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know," he admitted. "But I cannot stop myself from worrying. She is in an unfamiliar place. The mine is enormous - she could very easily get lost down there."

Dwalin scoffed. "Somehow I find that unlikely - that woman's sense of direction is truly something to behold."

"Dwalin-"

"My Lord!"

Both dwarves looked up to see one of the miners who had taken to making the gap bigger grinning down at them. "Survivors, my Lord. Five of them are headed this way."

Thorin perked up. "And Alana?"

The miner's face fell, and Thorin knew what was coming before he'd even spoken a word. "There's no sign of her, my Lord."

With a heavy sigh, Thorin nodded. "Keep going. We need to make sure everyone gets out safely." The miner's face became determined, and he and his helpers began chipping away at the boulders with renewed vigour. Thorin sighed again, facing Dwalin with fresh worry curling in the pit of his stomach. "What do you think she's doing?"

Dwalin shrugged. "Maybe checking for others down there." He huffed, patting Thorin's shoulder again. "She'll be okay, Thorin. Just be patient."

"Patience was never one of my greatest strengths," the dwarf grumbled, and Dwalin grinned.

"Something tells me it's something you'll have to master very soon," came the teasing reply, and while the bald dwarf chuckled to himself, Thorin just sent him a stony glare.

* * *

Alana was walking in circles. She'd come to the same bridge three times now, and she'd still had no progress finding the missing boy. With a heaving sigh, Alana headed down yet another new tunnel, having had to grab a fresh torch once her first one had begun to flicker and fade. This tunnel had no branching pathways - something she was endlessly grateful for - and it was some time before it came to an end. By her reckoning she had walked at least a mile from the bridge, and when she came back to the deep ravine she couldn't even see it.

Glancing around her, Alana was about to turn back and try another route when her ears picked up the sound of soft sniffles. She froze, tilting her head up to follow the sound, and her mouth fell slack at what she saw. There, at least thirty feet above her head, clinging to the side of a cliff, was a red haired dwarfling who was no bigger than Aragorn had been when he was two.

"By Mahal," she breathed, before quickly discarding her medical pack and placing her torch carefully on the ground, where it would hopefully remain burning without catching on anything else. She walked onto the pathway that hugged the sheer cliff until she was almost directly below the boy. "Are you alright?" she called up, and the boy loudly sobbed at the sound of her voice.

" _ **Ihsi! (Help!)**_ " he shouted down to her, tears thick in his voice. "I can't get down!"

Alana swallowed, glancing at the rock and mentally working out her route up, before she grasped the rock and began the ascent up the cliff. She was slow and careful, though she sped up a little when she was close enough to notice the dwarfling's thin arms were shaking from the effort of having to hold on for so long.

It wasn't long before she drew alongside him, clinging to a jagged rock with each hand, her feet precariously perched on another one that jutted from the cliff. She looked over at him, noting the dirt smudges on his face, and the obvious tear tracks that ran down his cheeks. His eyes were dark - she couldn't tell their exact colour in the darkness - and were filled with tears. "I've got you," she murmured softly, readjusting her hold on the cliff. "Can you climb onto my back?"

Slowly, the young dwarf nodded. He began shuffling closer to her, then quick as a flash he all but leapt on her, arms circling her neck while his legs wrapped like vices around her waist. She huffed at the sudden addition of weight - he was heavier than he looked, though she supposed it was probably just a dwarf thing - but kept her grasp on the cliff.

"Thank you," the dwarf whispered, burying his face in the space between her shoulders. He was still trembling, but his tears had subsided now.

Alana began slowly retracing her route back down, being a lot more careful now she had another life in her hands. In an attempt to stop him thinking about the rather intimidating drop below them, Alana began talking to him. "What's your name?"

"Lokir, son of Hothir," he told her. He hiccuped. "At your ser-bus."

Alana smiled at his adorable mispronunciation of 'service', but nonetheless responded, "Alana, daughter of Arathorn, at yours and your family's."

"I know you," the boy told her. "You're King Thorin's new Queen."

Alana chuckled. "Not just yet, little one, but I will be."

"Is he nice?" Lokir asked curiously, then hiccuped again. " _ **Adad**_ says he's good and nice person, but I think he looks scary."

Her smile still on her face, Alana paused before answering, lowering herself onto a rather small platform that she almost immediately slipped off of again. She managed to regain her footing though, and was grateful that Lokir seemed none the wiser. "He is a nice man, yes," she told him, "and he's a very, _very_ good person. But he can also be quite scary when he wants to be - only when he's really angry though, and that doesn't happen a lot."

"And are you a nice person?"

Laughing again, Alana careful lowered herself further. "Well, I like to think so. What do you think, Lokir? Do you think I'm a nice person?"

Lokir giggled. "You saved me," he pointed out. "You have to be nice to save me."

"Well, thank you, Master Lokir," she said with a hint of a tease in her voice that he probably didn't notice. "What were you doing all the way up there, anyway?"

"I saw a pretty stone; I'll show you when we get down. I wanted to get it for _**ama**_. She likes red jewels."

Alana hummed thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps next time you should try getting it from somewhere else, hmm? I'm sure your _**amad**_ would much rather you were safe and sound than have another pretty jewel, don't you?"

"Uh-huh," he agreed, nodding against her back. "Lady Alana?"

"Yes, Lokir?"

"Do you have any food? I'm hungry."

Alana chuckled, glancing down and noting there was only about another ten feet to go. "I should have a little bit in my pack," she told him. "I imagine you haven't eaten for a while."

"Not since the earthquake."

Alana grinned to herself again, not bothering to correct the young dwarfling. To him, it had probably felt exactly like an earthquake might, and he'd have been terrified up there on his own. She was glad to have found him when she had - she wasn't sure how much longer the little lad could have held on to that rock. "I'd imagine you're quite tired too," she murmured, and Lokir nodded again.

" _ **Adad**_ was s'posed to take me home when the earthquake happened," he told her. " _ **Ama**_ will be scared for us, won't she?"

Alana pursed her lips as she descended the last few feet, before she stepped onto the bridge. With a brief sigh of relief, she lowered Lokir onto the floor before she smiled down at him and answered. "She probably was quite frightened," she agreed, "but you and your _**adad**_ are strong, brave dwarves, and you're both okay. I'm sure she'll just be glad to see you again."

Lokir nodded, looking around. "Do you know the way back? Because I don't."

Chuckling, Alana crouched beside her pack and began rifling through its contents. "Yes, I know the way back. See that tunnel there?" She pointed ahead of her, and Lokir followed her finger with his eyes, nodding. "All those torches were lit by me. They'll lead us right back to the surface." She then hummed and pulled out a wrapped up piece of bread from her pack. "Here you go," she said, handing it to him. "Don't eat it too fast, though. I gave away my water to the others, so you'll have nothing to wash it down with."

Already chewing on his first eager bite, all Lokir did was nod. Curling her lips upwards, Alana pulled the strap of her medical pack over her head, and then picked up her torch, before she began leading the way through the tunnel. Every now and then she glanced behind her to check that Lokir hadn't wandered off, but he remained a stalwart presence by her side. Still, his tiredness was clearly getting to him, and Alana kept having to slow her pace down to make sure he was able to keep up with her.

At long last they came to the bridge across the ravine, and as soon as he saw it Lokir let out a rather undignified squeak, jumping forward and clutching her empty hand hard. She paused and glanced at him, but he refused to meet her eyes, as if ashamed by his fear. Hiding another smile, Alana gently pulled him across the bridge, glad that he had the common sense not to look down. She was a little surprised that he remained clinging to her fingers even after they'd entered the covered tunnels, but didn't complain.

"You know," she started, causing Lokir to look up at her from his position beside her, "you were really brave up there."

He beamed at her, puffing up his little chest with pride. "You think so?" he asked eagerly.

Alana nodded. "Definitely."

Lokir frowned. "But... but I was so scared," he admitted quietly.

Alana paused in her walk, turning to the boy and crouching on front of him. His eyes - which were a deep brown with golden flecks, she could see now - bore into hers, alight with curiosity as he waited for her to speak. "One thing you must understand is that bravery does not mean you're not scared," she told him. "Being brave often comes from being afraid. The two go hand-in-hand. You see, bravery, and courage, are simply the result your determination not to be ruled by fear. There's nothing wrong with being afraid - everyone is afraid at some point. The trick is to use it to feed your bravery. And that is what you did today."

Lokir was grinning almost shyly at this point, but his curiosity remained. "What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"Do you feel fear?"

Alana scoffed. "Of course I do!"

"Are you sure? You don't look like you do."

Chuckling, Alana gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "Believe me, Lokir, I feel fear just as much as you do. Maybe more. It's all about controlling your fear, and not letting it control you." Her face fell slightly. "I had to learn that very young, and so did you." She shook her head, then smiled at him again. "Now," she stated with finality, straightening, "let's get you back to your _**ama**_ and _**adad**_ , yes?"

Nodding eagerly, Lokir grabbed her hand again and started off, dragging her along behind him. Alana laughed at his enthusiasm, letting him pull her along. When they reached the end of the tunnel, the pathway meeting the main mine shaft, Alana gave him a gentle nudge in the right direction after noting that the rockfall blocking the miners had been cleared enough for a dwarf to fit through the gap, and the two then continued on side-by-side.

"Oh!" The young dwarf paused again, making Alana tilt her head down curiously. He grinned and then dug around in his little boot, before pulling out a stone the colour of blood. "Here," he said, holding his hand up and offering the gem. "I promised I'd show you."

Alana took the stone that had caught his eye, examining it curiously. It was beautiful, with little black crystals amongst the red, and was almost impossibly smooth for a natural stone. It wasn't very large, being maybe two inches long and half an inch wide and deep. She smiled. "It's stunning," she told him, handing it back. "Your _**ama**_ is a lucky dwarrowdam for you to find this for her."

Beaming, Lokir returned the stone to its hiding place, before taking her hand again. Alana wasn't really sure why he did this, but if it helped him, then she was hardly going to stop him.

They continued their journey in silence, until they heard a shout up ahead. "Lady Alana!"

Smiling, Alana waved jovially towards the dwarf perched at the top of the rock fall, before placing her torch back in its place on the wall. The she turned to Lokir and crouched down to place her hands under his arms. "Big jump, okay?" she murmured, and Lokir nodded, before springing up. She helped lift him as high as she could reach, made sure he had a strong grasp on the rock, before climbing up beside him. She settled on the rock and helped him climb higher again, until the little dwarfling was in reach of the dwarf miner, who took him from Alana's hands and gently pulled him through the gap. Then he disappeared and Alana began to climb up, thankful that she didn't have such a small hole to climb back through. On the other side of the rock fall she glanced at the floor, noted that the ground was clear, and let herself fall the rest of the way. Her feet and legs juddered on impact, but she didn't have long to think on that.

Before she could blink Thorin was in front of her, yanking her into a quick but intense kiss, before pulling back and checking her over. "You're alright?" he asked, and Alana smiled.

She placed her hand on his cheek, her eyes warm. "I'm okay," she promised. "I'm unhurt. Everything went fine."

" _ **Adad**_!"

Her head snapped up at the young voice, and she watched with a smile as Lokir launched himself at a larger dwarf with equally red hair, who swept him up into a bone-crushing hug. "Lokir, you little tyke!" the dwarf murmured with relief. "Don't you scare me like that again, you hear? Never again."

"Sorry, _**adad**_ ," Lokir murmured, burying his face in his father's hair. "I won't scare you again, I promise."

Hothir laughed almost breathlessly. "Well, that's a promise I know you won't keep, _**gultalut (tiny boar)**_. But I'm glad you're okay." He turned to Alana and smiled with gratitude. " ** _Âkminrûk zu,_** **_**melhekhinhul. (Thank you, my Queen.)**_** " He readjusted his hold on Lokir when the boy pulled away slightly, turning his head to grin at Alana, who in return offered a quick wink. "I will never be able to repay you for this."

Alana waved him off. "It was no trouble, Master Hothir. I'm just happy your son is safe and well."

Hothir nodded, and after Lokir waved goodbye to her (and she waved back with a smile), father and son turned away with the intention of heading home, a few others following in their wake.

After exhaling heavily, Thorin caught her attention again. He smiled. "Now that everyone is safely free from the mines, we can all rest a little. No doubt you're exhausted."

Alana huffed, nodding. "You have no idea. I was just about to go to bed when Bofur found me and told me about the collapse. Not to mention having to hunt for a _very_ elusive dwarfling."

With a chuckle and a smile, Thorin offered his elbow to her. "Then allow me to escort you back to your chambers, my Lady."

Snorting in a rather un-ladylike way, Alana accepted his elbow. "Why, thank you, my Lord!"

The two shared grins, before leaving the mine together, uncaring of the surreptitious glances that were shot their way. The whole mountain knew they were going to be married one day, and while they had been relatively careful in public, just this once they allowed themselves to show more of their love for one another; talking and laughing together, and pausing every now and then to share a kiss or two.

When at last they came to the royal quarters, Thorin paused by his door. He hesitated, then glanced up at her. "Will you come in?" he asked. "After what happened... I have no wish to part with you again, if I can avoid it."

"Thorin..."

"Please, Alana. Just this once."

With a gentle sigh, Alana's face softened, and she nodded. "Alright. Let me go and get ready for bed, and I shall join you after."

Smiling, Thorin pressed his lips to hers once more, and the two parted ways. It didn't take long for Alana to change out of her clothes and into her nightdress, and after pulling her hair out of its messy hold she left her room and silently slipped into Thorin's. He was stood by his fireplace, the fire crackling merrily, and turned to face her with a smile. His nightshirt was unbuttoned at the top, showing off some of the dark hair that grew on her chest, and Alana felt a pleasant shiver run down her spine at the sight of it.

Thorin smiled and offered a hand - which she took, of course - and led her to his bed. Alana pulled back the thick covers and crawled under them, while Thorin moved to the other side of the bed and did the same. The two met in the middle of the bed, their hands grasping onto each other in the space between them, and for a moment they simply stared at one another.

Then Thorin exhaled heavily, and he smiled. "I'm glad you're okay," he murmured. "I was worried."

Alana chuckled and leaned forward to peck the end of his nose. "Well, you shouldn't have been."

"I know," he admitted. "But I couldn't help myself." He tugged her hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss onto the back of her fingers. "I love you, _**atamanel**_."

Alana's eyes softened, and her smile could have melted all the ice atop the Misty Mountains. "I love you too, Thorin." The two shared another soft look, before they settled in to sleep, relishing in the warmth they shared with one another, and both secretly hoping that the day they became unified in marriage arrived very, _very_ quickly.


	5. When Reality Hits

**A/N: Ah, more emotional stuff. The good, the bad, and the ugly. But hey, it's on time this time :))) Let me know what you think!**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: alxxman, Just4Me, smarties123, LOVEmiSSinvisiBLE and Emalyd Yamazaki. :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Sophia Kaiba: Let's be honest, all kids have the power to be ridiculously adorable when they want to be. It's their superpower. ;)**

 **StarAvengerWho: Yeah, they can be cute. Just imagine it if Thorin and Alana have kids *nudge nudge wink wink* :D**

 **ro781727: That's something for which you'll just have to wait and see ;)**

 **Dreamer4life16: Oh, I hope the flight was okay. You going anywhere exciting? And if you wanted to squeal at _that_ Thorin/Alana moment, the one at the start of this chapter might just kill you. Just a little warning... ;) **

* * *

**'The short term pain of accepting the truth is much better than the long term pain of believing an illusion.' ~ Lilka**

* * *

 **Chapter 5:**

The morning sun streaming on her face was what woke her up, and Alana felt her face shifting into a frown. Not because of the sunlight itself, but rather where it was coming from. With a sleepy groan she shifted away from its light, only to suddenly notice the warm wall of muscle behind her, and the heavy weight draped over her stomach. Almost instantly her eyes snapped open, though she flinched away from the light streaming directly onto her face.

Calming her breathing and being extra careful not to jostle the bed too much, Alana glanced over her shoulder and saw Thorin's sleeping face in front of her. His breathing was deep and even, the stress lines of his skin fading away with the relaxed expression he wore. He looked peaceful; like the worries of his life had never existed.

Alana couldn't deny she loved being able to wake like this - wrapped loosely in his protective hold, being the only one able to see him in such a vulnerable state. On the quest, he never allowed himself to sleep this deeply; the smallest noise could startle him into wakefulness. Right now, she would have bet a lot to say it would take significantly more to disturb him. With a smile on her face, Alana turned her head back, burying her face deeper into her pillow, her hand coming to tangle with his over her stomach so their fingers were entwined. Thorin shifted, his arm tightening its hold on her and pulling her more snugly against him, before he burrowed his head into her hair and inhaled deeply. His breathing had quickened now, and Alana knew he was in the process of waking. She kept still and quiet, her eyes closed against the bright sunlight, allowing him to wake up in his own time.

A sleepy noise crawled its way up from somewhere deep in his chest, and his fingers twitched against her stomach. Then came the gentle brush of his eyelashes against the skin of her neck as his eyes opened slowly, and she felt him blink a few times to draw away the last of his sleep. Then he hummed lowly, running his nose against the side of her neck, before pressing a whisper of a kiss against her skin. The bed shifted as he propped himself up on his arm, and Alana held her breath in eager anticipation for his next move. She almost jolted when she felt the press of his lips again, firmer this time. He kissed the juncture between her neck and her shoulder, then began peppering her shoulder and the top of her arm with the same sleepy kisses, and with a smile on her face Alana opened her eyes again.

" _ **Bakn galikh,**_ _ **m**_ _ **elhekhul, (Good morning, my King,)**_ " she greeted, her voice still rough with the last remnants of her sleep.

Thorin released a small grunt, moving his lips to the top of her shoulder again, before he thoroughly attacked it. Alana shuddered at the sensation of his lips and tongue on her shoulder, sucking and licking and kissing her skin, leaving a raw red mark. Thorin's hand wandered from her stomach to rest on the curve of her hip, and applied a little force, urging her to roll onto her back. She obliged him, her eyes meeting his and her cheeks flushed slightly. She smiled at him, then reached up with one hand and brought his mouth to hers, kissing him deeply. At first it was innocent enough, but then he pressed his tongue insistently at the seam of her lips, and when she parted her lips he delved deep within her mouth. Their tongues tangled and danced, her fingers curling in his hair while his hand tightened its grip on her hip, tugging her completely flush against him.

They parted for barely more than a second, sucking in sharp lungfuls of air, and then their lips met again with the same passion and even more heat. Alana couldn't stop herself moaning, and Thorin shivered at the noise, somehow increasing his fervour in an attempt to rip such a noise from her a second time.

They were broken from their moment by the sound of a knock on the door. A moment of stillness overcame them, and for the first time Alana realised just how far they'd gone. One of her legs was nestled between his, while the other was hooked over his waist. Her nightdress was also slipping, revealing too much skin to be proper even for an engaged couple like them. Their eyes met, the same realisation dawning on him, before he sighed through his nose and placed one last kiss on her lips. Then they untangled themselves from one another, and Thorin got out of bed to answer the door while Alana flopped back onto the mattress, still trying to catch her breath.

With all the planning going on, not to mention the hunting trips she'd been taking with Kili, she'd had very little time left to spend with Thorin. She'd missed him more than she'd realised, and what just happened was a clear sign of that - she was so close to losing control of herself around him, and that really wasn't a good thing to happen before they were married. With a deep breath, Alana mentally told herself to get a grip.

Thorin's rumbling voice caught her attention, and she tilted her head towards the door to see him stood leaning against the door frame - so a close friend of his, otherwise he'd never allow himself to act so casually. The responding voice was higher pitched and warm, and with a smile Alana climbed out of the bed and made her way to the door.

She smiled when she clapped eyes on her future sister-in-law, who didn't so much as bat an eyelid at her. "Morning, Dís," she chirped.

"Hello, Alana. How are you feeling?"

Alana chuckled. "I'm okay, thank you. And thank you for looking after Estel yesterday; I really appreciate it."

Dís waved her off. "It was nothing, though I don't think you'll be able to get away with it again. He's determined to get you into the training area today. I've rearranged your meetings for the afternoon. And Master Bombur asked me to remind you of your promise - though he failed to tell me what it was, citing only that you'd understand."

Smiling gratefully at the dwarrowdam, Alana nodded and told her, "I do," then turned to Thorin and placed a kiss on his head. " _ ** _Adjini ag zâsakhizu gagin,_ (** **I'll see you later,)**_ " she murmured softly, and upon receiving a tender squeeze of the hand in return, Alana made her way past the siblings and ducked into her room. She used her weight to close the door, leaning against it for a few more moments as her mind flashed back to what had just happened. She groaned quietly. "At this rate, I am _never_ going to last until the wedding," she grumbled, before letting out a sigh and pushing away from the door to get changed.

* * *

She and Thorin had slept in somewhat later than she'd planned, so by the time Alana made it to the training area it was only a couple hours before lunch. She wasn't surprised to find that Aragorn was already there, his black bow in his hand, firing arrows at three separate targets. She was incredibly impressed by his progress, his shots cleaner and faster, though there were still occasions where he didn't hit the target very well. He was under the watchful eye of their mother, who sent Alana a wide smile when their eyes met, which was reciprocated, though neither said anything. Off to the side Fili and Kili were sparring together with their swords, and the rest of the training area was full of various others who were either clearly just beginning to learn, or had been warriors for many years.

"Hey, brother," Alana called cheerfully as she stepped into the area, drawing a few of the more curious eyes her way.

Aragorn paused in his shooting and spun around, greeting her with a wide grin. "Alana!" He waved at her, despite the fact she was only a few feet away. "Look! Look!" He spun around again, drawing another arrow. He took a little more time to line up his shot this time, but it was worth it - the arrow flew straight and true, slamming into the smallest circle at the centre of the target. He beamed, and Alana felt her chest swell with pride for him.

She got closer and pressed a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek, making him splutter and try desperately to wipe it off. Alana laughed. "Oh, it won't kill you," she reminded him.

Aragorn huffed. "You don't know that! It might."

"Well then, life as we know it has been completely redefined," she shot back, rolling her eyes. "You're doing well, Estel. I'll take you out into the forest soon, if you'd like."

Aragorn blinked at her, then grinned. "Really?!"

Chuckling, Alana ruffled his hair. "Of course. You need the practice - a moving target is, after all, a lot harder to hit than a stationary one. I can teach how to track as well, if you'd like."

"You mean like you?" he asked. "Am I going to be a Ranger like you and _ada_?"

Smiling softly, Alana shrugged. "Well, if you want-"

"Yes!" he shouted, bouncing up and down in his eagerness. "I want to be just like you!"

"Well, okay then," laughed the woman. "But not today. I've already had to adjust my meetings for today to see you - I can't keep shirking my duties, I'm afraid."

Aragorn tilted his head up at her curiously. "What meetings?"

"Well," she started, leaning against the wall, while Aragorn ignored his bow in favour of listening to her, "I've got to meet with a few of the city tailors to get some new banners made; I've got to talk to a smith about the crowns for the ceremony-"

"You're planning Thorin's crowning?"

"It's called a coronation," she told him with a smile. "And yes, he's asked me to plan it. Dís is helping where she can, but I've got the bulk of the responsibility."

"Can I come with you?" he asked. "I know you're busy, but I haven't seen you in forever. I'll behave, I promise. I want to help."

Alana considered it for a moment, wondering whether the others would have issue with him being there, but - putting aside his bouts of rather energetic curiosity - he was a well-behaved boy, and she didn't foresee any trouble. So she smiled at him, and nodded. "Alright, then."

Letting out an eager cheer, Aragorn lunged forward and hugged her quickly, before skirting away and going back to his shooting. Alana shook her head in amusement at his almost skittish movements, marvelling over how young he still was, despite how quickly he was maturing. It was an odd combination, but she supposed she had probably been that way once.

"You look like your entire world has just been turned upside down," Kili noted as he and Fili slumped onto the ground next to her, their swords clattering onto the stone next to them, both of them covered in a light sheen of sweat and their faces flushed.

Alana chuckled. "Yes, well, according to my little brother, kisses are the things that end your life."

Fili laughed. "Alana, that's something I've been saying since I was eight years old."

"And hey," Kili piped up, "the expression 'kiss of death' had to come from somewhere, right?"

Alana rolled her eyes. "You two are ridiculous," she grumbled under her breath, making the two brothers laugh.

"Seriously, though," Fili urged.

Alana sighed. "I don't know," she admitted. "It just suddenly hit me that Estel isn't just a _boy_ anymore, you know? He's growing up. In a few years he'll be out in the wild on his own, exploring. He'll no longer be the little brother I have to protect from the world."

"That's not something that just goes away," stated the blonde emphatically. "Speaking as a fellow older sibling, you'll never be able to get it out of your head that protecting him falls to you. It's simply what being the older one means. Just because he's able to protect himself doesn't mean you suddenly can't look after him."

"I know," she murmured, "but it's just strange, you know? I'm so much older than him, even for my people. The world is a mystery to him, one I know he wants to explore, but part of me doesn't want him to."

"Why not?" Kili asked curiously, remembering distinctly a time when Fili was exactly the same. He'd never been able to work out what caused his brother's sudden protective streak, but he had a feeling Alana would be able to give him the answers he'd wanted back then.

Alana glanced at him, then at Fili, and the understanding look on the blonde's face. "Because one day he'll go out there, and the brutality of the world will hit him so hard that it'll rip away all the innocence he has left in him; the naivety. I know that I can't, but there's a part of me that's screaming to keep him hidden from that darkness." She shook her head. "It's stupid, I know. It just makes me feel..."

"Like an older sibling," Fili pointed out. "It's something we all go through. It's not stupid; it's perfectly normal. But you're right - you can't keep him locked away from what's really out there. He has to discover it all for himself. What you're forgetting is that, when he does, he'll have the option of coming back to you if he needs to. You don't have to be by him every second of the day to _be there_ for him, if that makes sense."

Alana smiled softly. "Yeah, it does." She glanced down at him. "Thanks, Fili."

"No problem," came the blasé response, and the mood lightened somewhat.

Kili hummed. "I have a question," he began, and the other two looked his way. He grinned. "Did you and Thorin ever settle that fight you had in Rivendell?"

Alana blinked. "What fight?"

"In the tournament," he explained. "There was no definite winner. I just wondered if you ever got the chance to compete against each other again."

Alana chuckled. "No, we never did. It's not like it matters all that much, anyway."

Kili scoffed. "It very much matters. I need to know if my uncle can be beaten by a woman who's almost eight times younger than him."

Alana blinked, the comment stalling her. She knew that Thorin was a lot older than her; of course she knew that. He'd have to be to have fought in the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. She had no real issue with that fact, and had grown to accept that she would long outlive him - unless her death came from something other than old age. But when put like that, somehow the knowledge struck her much harder than it had before. He was to turn 196 in almost two months, on June 17th; exactly a month after his coronation.

And then her heart came to a juddering halt, eyes widening and filling with tears.

Alana knew that most dwarves died around the age of 250, having spent the last ten years of their lives in a state of accelerated ageing. She remembered panicking upon hearing that, worrying about Balin, but she had been assured that his hair was white due to an excess of stress, rather than old age. She had realised then that Thorin likely only had five more decades to go before death claimed him. She knew this, and had accepted it as the harsh reality, even if she didn't like it.

What she hadn't realised was what this meant for any of his children.

Even if they were to have a child right away, Thorin would only live to see around fifty to sixty years of its life. He would watch his sons or daughters grow to become adults (just barely), but would never live to see what they did with that life, nor what they achieved. They would spend most of their lives without a father to turn to for help, for advice, for comfort. She would have to bear the weight of being a single parent, of watching them go on with their lives without him, while trying to be a strong enough shoulder for them when they needed her. She knew that was what she would one day have to do, but the mere thought of existing in a world without him was enough to tear her heart in two. She had only just found him, and to know that she would one day go back to living without him by her side, physically or otherwise, was too much for her to bear.

"Alana?"

Alana ignored Kili's confused call as she spun on her heel and rushed back into the mountain. She ignored the people she crossed paths with, who sent her bewildered or compassionate (or, on some occasions, derisive) looks when they saw the horror on her face, the tears in her eyes. She ignored the fact that she was moving at all, letting her feet guide her wherever they wanted. She ignored everything, except the crippling pain in her chest.

Eventually, Alana came to the same place that she'd wound up the last time things got too much for her - the Temple of Mahal. It didn't occur to her that there might be others in there, and she likely wouldn't have cared even if there were. Still, the room was entirely empty when she entered it, and in a small corner of her mind she was glad. Alana approached the effigy of Mahal slowly, feeling almost ashamed of herself for only coming here when overcome by sorrow. But she had so far found that it was a place where she could release her tears without fear of judgement, and she often found her strength returning to her in here. Maybe the Smith really was looking over them here, and it was He who had provided her with this strength.

Whatever the reason, she was suddenly glad this was where her subconscious mind had taken her.

Alana knelt before the statue, stared up at Aulë's stone face, and allowed her defences to crumble. The Ranger put her face in her hands, and she wept.


	6. Preparations

**A/N: Hello again. I know this one is a little late, and I'm sorry for that. This week is just a bit crazy. Speaking of which, I'm going AWOL for all of next week, and I genuinely have no idea if I'll have access to WiFi on a regular basis, so I'm warning you now that, after the publishing of chapter 7 (if all goes well), you might have a bit of a wait on your hands for the following chapter after that. :)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: TheBurningSpirit, Moony's Black, kai-bloodphoenix and cupidsrose. :D**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **StarAvengerWho: Haha, well, you might have to wait a _few_ more chapters for that :P Glad to hear you enjoyed it :)**

 **silverhawk88: Yeah, more of that will be explained here. But the average dwarf lifespan is 250 years (give or take), which is why I added it there.**

 **Dreamer4life16: I was gonna say, as deaths go, that isn't all that bad. I'd be happy to go out like that :) I'm glad I got the older sibling thing right, actually, because I'm the youngest in my family so I was kind of just writing what I thought it might be like. I have 'older sibling' moments with my friends, though, so I was also slightly drawing off of those.**

 **ro781727: Well, it was inevitable that not everyone is completely happy with 'Lana becoming Queen. And yes, I know the line of Durin live longer (though to be fair, Dwalin was extraordinarily old when he died, even by those standards). Anyway, as I mentioned above, there will be a little more explanation for that particular point in this chapter.**

 **Rohirrim Girl 2187: Hehe, we all want to hit Kili over the head sometimes ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter 6:**

"What do you mean she's missing?!" Thorin demanded, furious.

Kili and Fili were stood before him, both of them pale and tired. They'd spent over two hours looking for Alana after she'd disappeared, but had found no sign of her. Erebor was a big place, and there was no way they could search every corner of it alone, so they had made the grim decision to inform Thorin.

Fili stepped forward, drawing Thorin's stormy gaze away from his brother. "We can't find her, Thorin," he began, trying to remain confident despite the thunderous expression on his uncle's face. "We've searched in all the places we thought she could be, but she's not in any of them."

"When did you last see her?" Thorin asked, inhaling and carefully reigning in his fear and anger. This was the second time in two days that Alana had disappeared somewhere, and it was the second time in two days that he was overcome by such a potent powerlessness that he began to lose every semblance of sanity and composure.

"It was in the training area," Kili supplied, standing at his brother's side. He was calmer now that he knew Thorin had his temper under control. "Fili and m- Fili and I have talked it over, and neither of us can understand what caused her to leave. She seemed fine one moment and then suddenly she was gone."

"She'd been quiet, though," Fili put in. "For maybe two or three minutes, she'd clearly been thinking hard about something. Whatever it was must have upset her, but-"

"We don't know what it was," finished the brunette.

Thorin was pensive, a frown settling between his brows. "Where have you looked?" he asked at length.

"The forges, the mines, the market, the houses of everyone in the company, the royal suites, the celebration hall, the throne room, the barracks, the stables, and both libraries. We even went back to the training area to see if she'd reappeared there, but no one has seen her since she first disappeared." Fili's listing was quick and efficient, and Thorin knew he had been running the locations over in his head, trying to think of somewhere that he had missed. Thorin was doing to same, but like his nephews, was coming up blank.

He sighed. "How upset did she seem?"

The brothers exchanged glances, causing Thorin to raise an eyebrow. "She looked like she had been torn apart," Kili said at last, and Thorin's face crumpled at once. "The only time I've ever seen her like that was-" Kili cut himself off, his eyes widened as realisation spread over him.

"Was...?" Thorin prompted.

Kili swallowed, gathering his courage. "Was before the battle," he said at last.

Thorin blinked. "Why?"

"She was scared for you, uncle," Kili admitted quietly. "Terrified, really. She was afraid you wouldn't be able to save yourself from the gold sickness, and that she would lose you because of it."

Fili glanced at his brother. "Do you think she could have gone back there?"

"Where?" Thorin cut in, his voice strained now.

"Bilbo found her in an old shrine," the brunette told him. "When he couldn't help her, he found Fili and me and asked us to do what we could."

Thorin was striding towards the door before Kili had even stopped talking, knowing exactly where he'd meant. He had apologised to Alana more times than he could count for everything that had happened while the gold sickness had run riot in his body, and she had assured him every time that she forgave him, and that the past was the past. He hadn't known that he'd caused her so much pain she'd almost given up hope. It anguished him to even admit he'd fallen so far, but to know he'd all but dragged her down with him...

There must have been something written across his face that stopped people from getting too close to him, and it wasn't long before he found himself in front of a door he hadn't seen for over a century and a half. His grandmother had been the one to suggest a temple be built for their Maker, though this was long before Thorin himself was born. He remembered only dimly the times when she would lead him by the hand along these halls when he was still a child, urging him to confess his concerns to Mahal. At the time he'd been impatient, not believing it to be of any use, and had fought with her all the time about it. His outlook had been completely changed when she passed away.

Hindsight, he thought dully, truly made all the difference. It was what made him wish he'd done an awful lot of things differently.

Thorin pushed open the door with as little noise as possible, hoping not to startle her. The temple was empty of all life except hers, though to even say that might have been slightly presumptuous. Alana's body was sprawled across the floor, her figure curled up into a foetal position, the occasional sniffle being almost the only clue that she was even awake.

Thorin felt his heart throb and clench in his chest at the sight of her. " _ **Ma biratabzarizu tada akrisikizu? (Do you mind if I join you?)**_ " he asked, worried that he had been making assumptions. Her entire being seemed to call out for a comforting hand (one he was happy to give, even if comforting really wasn't his forte), but if she wished to be alone, then he knew there was nothing he could do to deny her.

" _ **Lu bir, (Of course not,)**_ " came her tearful response, her voice cracking.

"What's wrong, _**badg**_ ** _ûn_** _ **a**_?" he asked with a gentle voice, lowering himself onto the cold floor beside her and tenderly pulling her into a seated position. "Tell me what troubles you."

And she did. With a shaking voice and trembling limbs, Alana told him about her concerns with his age, about what would happen when he inevitably passed on, to her and any children they might have in the future.

"How can I bear it?" she asked at length. "How can I bear the pain of your passing, when the mere thought of it alone brings such terror to my heart? What could I possibly do to make it bearable?"

Thorin softly shushed her, pressing a whisper of a kiss to the crown of her head. "You will have those who love you to pull you through," he reminded her. "I cannot deny that I wish it were not so, but you will likely outlast me by many years, and you must find the strength to endure. Draw from those who love you; your brother, my sister, my nephews, and any sons or daughters we might one day have. They will be your reason to keep fighting, should you need it."

"I don't want to," she admitted. "I don't want to live in a world where you are not. We..." She shuddered, burrowing her face into his chest, her hands grasping the front of his shirt in an iron grip. "We may not be together in death, Thorin. You are a dwarf; I am human. Our races dwell in different places in the afterlife. What if the last day you live in Middle Earth is the last day I shall ever spend with you, in life and in death?"

Thorin sighed. "Alana, I don't know what will happen," he admitted. "With a little luck, I may yet live to be four hundred years old, but equally a war could start and I could die tomorrow. That is how it always is - something could happen at any moment, but we continue to live out our lives as if we intend them to never end. That is simply what we must do. The future is a mystery, and that is the undeniable truth. We cannot let the unknown force us to live in fear."

"I don't want to lose you," she whimpered, and Thorin's heart clenched at the raw pain and honesty in her voice.

He buried his face in her hair, pulling her closer. Then he spoke again. "I don't wish to lose you either, _**san ** **âz** yung****_. Mahal knows that is the last thing I want. But we cannot stop time, and we cannot control it." He used his finger to gently tilt her tear-stained face up to him. "All we can do," he murmured, "is make the most of the time that is given to us." Then he lowered his head and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, and slowly she began to respond.

She pulled back after a few seconds, laying her head on his chest again and releasing a sigh. "Do you ever wonder what our future will be like?" she asked him with genuine curiosity, and Thorin hummed in response.

"At times. But then, doesn't everyone?"

"What do you think about?"

Thorin pondered for a moment. "Mostly I wonder about our lives. When I think of the future, I tend to forget about the kingdom and our people, and instead I focus on our family. I wonder about our children, how many we will be blessed with, what their names shall be. I wonder whether they'll take after your family or mine. I wonder at what age I shall ask Fili to take over the throne so we may live our older years without the burden of the crown."

"Fili?" she cut in. "Not our child?"

"I do not wish to rule this mountain for long. By the time I give up the crown, they will not be old enough," came the soft reply. "I will ask that Fili pass the throne to one of our children when he too is ready to move on, but, with my current plans, our children will be barely into adulthood when Fili will be ready to take up the mantle of King. That is too young an age to be a ruler." He smiled to himself. "What about you? What do you picture in our future?"

"You. You are the only constant in all my images. Sometimes Kili and Fili are there with us, but sometimes we are alone in the wild somewhere. Sometimes we have a child, sometimes two or three. My brother appears frequently too, but he comes and goes, as a Ranger does. In all that, the one thing that never changes is your presence by my side." She paused, then with a voice so quiet he could barely hear, Alana confessed, "I could be without everything else if only I had you, Thorin. I am sure of this with every bone in my body. It is why the thought of your death brings such terror to me."

Thorin couldn't find the words to fully express how that confession made him feel, how touched he was to be held in such high regard by the woman he had given his heart to, and yet how much it hurt to think he would one day be the cause of such pain. So he said nothing, and instead chose to pull her closer. She seemed to understand, because she clung to him just as tightly, and released a sigh of contentment. It was a while before either of them moved again.

* * *

The afternoon went on as planned - Alana was met in the celebration hall by three different tailors, all of whom had agreed to work together to make sure everything was done in time for the coronation, and Aragorn was stood at the side, watching with barely contained curiosity. The dwarves seemed to find the boy amusing, and sometimes brought him over to be included in their conversations. Alana was grateful for that little show of acceptance, and Aragorn seemed to love being involved, even if he didn't get to do much.

After the tailors had left, Alana took Aragorn by the hand and led him down towards the forges. It was here that all the smiths tended to work, as they had easy access to gold and silver, not to mention a dozen other types of metal, and various uncut gemstones, too. Alana gave Aragorn strict instructions not to get in anyone's way, nor to get too close to the forges themselves, but otherwise let him wander as he wished while she talked to an old dwarf called Galmar about the Princes' crowns. They each had a few preliminary design ideas that they shared with one another, talking about the different positives and negatives of each, before sketching out one final design that they were both happy with.

All in all this took about an hour, by which time Aragorn had wandered back into the forge, perched himself on the only available chair, and fallen fast asleep. Alana and Galmar chuckled at the sight of him curled up into a ball, and while the smith went to work gathering the necessary materials for Fili and Kili's crowns, Alana approached her brother and gently shook him awake.

He grumbled, batting her hands away. Alana chuckled. "Come on, sleepyhead. Let's give Galmar his space."

"M'sleeping," Aragorn grumbled, yawning.

"It's only mid-afternoon!" Alana protested with a laugh. "Come on, if you get up, I can take you to meet Bombur's kids."

Aragorn's eyes flashed wide in an instant, all signs of tiredness gone. "Really?"

Alana nodded, smiling and stepping back as he jumped to his feet. "I'm done for today, and since you've been bugging me about it for weeks, I figured we might as well. I haven't seen Bombur in all that time, and it'll be nice to catch up with him and his family."

Aragorn beamed, then grabbed Alana by the hand and dragged her towards Bombur's family's house. Alana laughed at his enthusiasm, allowing herself to be manhandled. Getting there involved making their way through the market, which was thankfully now bustling with life and activity. Aragorn ignored everyone as he continued to tug on Alana's arm impatiently, but the duo were not ignored by others. Murmurs and whispers followed their progress through the market, and there was a stir in the air - it suddenly felt charged with... well, if Alana didn't know better, she'd think it was excitement. She had no idea what they'd be so excited about, though.

At the very least, not until a particularly broad dwarf with a large, grey beard moved towards them, his eyes a particular shade of green that tugged at her memory. Alana paused, making Aragorn sigh in frustration, but then he noticed their new companion and it all but faded.

Before the dwarf could speak, Alana asked him, "You wouldn't happen to be related to Cardac, son of Cardin, would you?"

He blinked. "I am. How did you know?"

"Your eyes," she stated with a shrug. "They're the same colour. Your faces also bear the same basic shape."

The dwarf blinked a few times more, clearly startled by her observations. "Well," he said at length, clearing his throat, "Cardac is my brother. He came home yesterday with one hell of a story to tell. I want to thank you for helping him down there."

Alana shook her head. "Cardac and the rest got themselves out. I did nothing."

"You got them started," the dwarf protested. "And you gave up your water to them. My brother admitted he didn't think they were gonna get out, 'til you came along. Not to mention you going after Hothir's young lad like that. So, on behalf of them all, and myself, thank you."

Slightly surprised by his genuine gratitude, Alana simply smiled with a touch of shyness. "It was no trouble at all; I was happy to help."

The dwarf chuckled, murmuring something under his breath, making Alana cock an eyebrow curiously. He continued on, pretending not to notice, and Alana decided not to push him about it. "Well, I won't keep you. Just wanted to thank you for your help." He bowed, and began to turn away, when Alana called him back.

"What is your name?"

He tilted his head, grinning. "Rordin, at your service," he told her, bowing again.

"Well, Master Rordin, it was a pleasure to meet you. And tell your brother I sent my well wishes, if you would."

Rordin grinned. "Of course, my Queen."

Alana shook her head, chuckling. "I'm not the Queen yet, Master Dwarf. Just Alana is fine."

"Maybe not officially," he agreed, before adding, "but King Thorin has chosen you as his wife, and you are already acting like any good Queen would. It is a title you have come to deserve."

Alana gaped at him, unable to find any words to speak, but was snapped from her shock when Aragorn giggled from below her. "Close your mouth, Alana, or you'll catch flies," he teased.

Rolling her eyes, Alana ruffled her brother's hair. "You've been spending too much time with Kili and Fili," she shot back.

Her point was only further evidenced by the speed of his comeback - he had always been pretty sharp with his retorts, but this was almost uncanny. "I wouldn't have to if you were there."

Alana stared at him. "Ouch," she muttered at last. "You know, I might just say we should cancel our trip to Bombur's for that comment."

"What?" His head snapped up in horror. "No!"

Alana poked his nose gently. "Lucky for you, I'm in a good mood." She turned back to Rordin, who had been watching their interaction with a knowing smile on his face. "It was good meeting you Rordin, son of Cardin, however I'm afraid I have a ten year old brother to look after."

"Hey, I can look after myself!" Aragorn protested with a pout, but Alana didn't so much as blink.

Rordin chuckled. "So I see." He tilted his head to the side, and Alana caught the hint of a challenge in his eyes before he said, " _ **Gaubdûkhimâ gagin yâkùlib Mahal. (May we meet again with the grace of Mahal.)**_ "

Alana chuckled. " _ ** _ ** _ _ **Mukhuh Mahal udnîn zu ra sanzigil umkhûh**_ _**_**__**zu, (May Mahal keep you and mithril find you,)**_ " she responded, and then left the dwarf with a parting grin, before allowing Aragorn to lead the way once more.

* * *

Bombur had chosen one of the larger houses Thorin offered, to ensure that his whole family would fit inside it. Alana wondered belatedly how Cinna could possibly bear to give birth to _nine_ children, although she supposed there was almost fifty years of age between their oldest and youngest (their oldest, Bomfur, was 59 years old, and their youngest, little Bambur, was the same age as Aragorn).

Despite being the same age in years, Bambur was still very young by dwarven standards, and so his behaviour was more like that of a five year old child. As a result, Alana figured Aragorn was more likely to get on with the dwarves around the age of twenty, of which there were three - Balur, Renna and Finna. Renna and Finna were twins, apparently, which had surprised her. She wasn't quite sure when, or why, but Alana had automatically assumed that dwarves didn't have twins. Thorin had patiently explained that they were very, very rare, but they were not impossible.

Cinna was the one to greet them at the door, and she blinked in surprise at seeing Alana and Aragorn waiting for her with identical smiles on their faces. "L-Lady Alana!" she stuttered.

"Hello, Lady Cinna," she greeted in return, her smile broadening. "I was hoping Bombur would be in. We had planned to see each other this afternoon, and my brother is rather eager to meet you children, if that's not a problem."

Cinna blinked a few times, then seemed to gather her wits. "No, no, of course. Come in." She stepped back and Aragorn all but bounded into their house, while Alana rolled her eyes as subtly as she could and then followed behind. "I hope you don't mind the mess," Cinna grumbled. "I try to keep the house as clean as possible, but with nine children who still haven't reached maturity..."

Alana chuckled. "It's alright, Lady Cinna. I remember when my brother was younger - he used to make enough mess for nine, believe me."

"I heard that!" came Aragorn's slightly petulant reply, and Alana shared a grin of amusement with the blonde dwarrowdam.

"I would have thought Bombur would tell me about this, though," Cinna muttered, looking a little confused. "Unless he planned to surprise me." She huffed. "Oh, that dwarf!"

Alana sent her an apologetic look. "If it's an issue, I can-"

"Oh, no, not at all," Cinna cut in, waving her off. "Honestly, I could use the female company."

"You do have three daughters," Alana pointed out with a grin.

"Two of whom are barely in their twenties, and the other is currently in the market!" Cinna retorted, then paused, glancing up at the Ranger curiously. "Actually, Bombur's not here either."

"I'm here a little earlier than originally planned," Alana admitted. "I managed to get my other duties finished much quicker than I thought I would."

"Ah, I see." Cinna smiled kindly up at her. "Well, I was just in the middle of making dinner. Would you care to keep me company?"

Alana chuckled. "As long as you don't ask me to cook. Cutting vegetables and dealing with meat when its raw is all well and good - unfortunately, my cooking skills are only just enough to keep me going in the wild."

Laughing, Cinna nodded. "That's alright - cooking's my passion, as it is Bombur's. The odd helping hand doesn't go amiss, but I don't mind the work."

"A good thing, too," Alana mused, "with all the mouths you have to feed. I can't imagine how much all the food costs you!"

Cinna hummed. "Yes, well, that's no issue now. With Bombur's payment for that quest of yours, we're set for life. And then some!" She patted Alana on the arm. "Now, come on, dear. Let's get you a chair, and then you can tell me a bit more about yourself."


	7. The Future Within Sight

**A/N: I'M BAAAAAAACCCKKKK! Hello, you beautiful people, and how are you all? I know it's been ages, but I'm back in my own country now, with wifi and a decent computer, so I'm good to go as usual. Thank you for your patience, and I hope it was worth the wait...! :)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: helenaxo, StTudnoBright, ANIMEFAN426, Shadow. Kyoki, klspun, JustanamelessGirl, Salinia, Valentines are forever, JediQueen02, Tristana379, myrafiqa, AliceTheCactus, Frozen Winter Flower, deltagrey and madimoo1328.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **StarAvengerWho: Not naughty as such (at least, not yet), but you get to see a little cuteness :)**

 **Sparky She-Demon: Aww, thanks :)**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Hey, even stubborn-ass dwarves have their soft spots ;)**

 **cupidsrose: Aww, thanks. Yeah, I do a lot of research, and I know not everything is 100% by-the-book accurate, but I do what I can. Glad to hear you're enjoying it :)**

 **Dreamer4life16: Gee, if they kill you in a story, imagine what it would be like if you met them and saw them in real life... ;) As for your 'scary thought', don't worry, we've got a ways to go before we reach that far. I mean... _a long way._ So, maybe that'll help give you some peace of mind...? Glad you didn't mind me taking two weeks off, but I'm back now. It's all good... :D**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Haha, hopefully the wait wasn't too painful for you... ;) Thanks for all your support, as ever, and I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it :)**

* * *

 **'The problem is not the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem.' ~ Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirates of the Caribbean**

* * *

 **Chapter 7:**

Alana could barely contain her laughter as Cinna told her about the one time it had snowed in Ered Luin during little Bambur's lifetime, and about how Bombur had somehow fallen asleep in said snow. The family had proceeded to bury him where he rested (except for his head, of course), and refused to help him get up when he woke. By the time he'd finally managed to dig himself out, he'd missed both lunch and dinner, and had spent almost a whole week sulking about it.

It was only at this point that Alana's laughter broke free, and just as Cinna joined in, the front door opened.

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear!" Cinna announced with a smile. "Bombur, you old lout, you're late!"

"Sorry, Cinna," came Bombur's voice from the main room. "Bifur asked for some help down in the market, and we lost track of time."

"Well," Cinna huffed, "you're lucky I was here to keep your friend company!"

There was a pregnant pause, and then Bombur poked his head around the door and beamed. "Alana, you're still here! I'd have thought you'd have left by now. I am so sorry for the delay."

Alana chuckled. "It's no issue. Cinna and I had the chance to talk and learn about each other, and I'm glad for that."

Cinna hummed. "You and me both, dear," she murmured, and Alana shot her a grin and a wink. Everyone jumped when there was a sudden crash from the next room, and then poor Cinna released a tired sigh. "Oh, those boys..."

"I've got it, don't worry," Alana said, getting up before the dwarrowdam could argue. "I think it's about time I checked on Estel, anyway." She sent Cinna a smile, patted Bombur amiably on the shoulder, and then headed into the back room, where five of Cinna's children were all playing together, with Aragorn. The crash appeared to have come from a large tower of wooden blocks being knocked over - nothing serious, thank Mahal.

Aragorn seemed to be having the time of his life, laughing with one dwarf in particular, who was still too young to have grown a beard, and seemed to be about Aragorn's age in maturity.

Aragorn spotted her almost as soon as she paused in the doorway, and instantly rushed up to her. "Alana, come and meet my friend!" Chuckling fondly at her little brother, Alana watched as the dwarf Aragorn had been laughing with approached her with a touch of shyness that he was obviously trying to hide. Aragorn placed his arm around the dwarf's shoulder as introduced proudly, "This is Balur!"

Balur grinned at her, some of shyness dissipating, and performed the customary low bow of greeting. "At your service, Lady Alana."

Alana grinned. "And I am at yours, Master Balur. Thank you for keeping my brother company."

Balur beamed. "He was telling me about some of the adventures you've been on!" he told her eagerly, causing Alana to arch an eyebrow at her brother, who suddenly didn't want to meet her eyes. Balur's voice drew her eyes back to him. "Is it really true you fought with trolls?"

Alana chuckled. "I did, yes, although the company was later captured by them."

Balur's eyes widened in half-fear and half-awe. "Really?! All of you? How did you escape?"

Grinning, Alana settled herself down on the floor, trying to hide the swell of warmth when she saw Aragorn and Balur sit down in front of her, so close that she could have thought they'd been friends for years. She made a mental note to make sure the two boys had more chances to see each other in future. "Well," she started thoughtfully, "you see, trolls are not the smartest grapes in the bunch, and so while we were captured and tied up, they made no attempt to lower their voices. They mentioned how sunlight turns them to stone, and a little hobbit in our group by the name of Bilbo Baggins had the ingenious idea of stalling for time. So, up he hopped - still wearing a very large sack, mind you - and started prattling on about the best way to cook a dwarf." Balur looked utterly horrified, while Aragorn was all but bouncing with glee. He'd wormed every last detail from her about the quest that he could, but that didn't seem to satiate his curiosity and enthusiasm; she'd had to repeat several parts of their adventure many times in the last few weeks. "Looking back, I know of course that he only meant to help us, but at the time I didn't, and the dwarves and I were really quite upset about that. The trolls were quick to start arguing about what Bilbo suggested, and came to the conclusion that eating dwarves raw was the best way. Then one of them picked up your father and threatened to eat him right there on the spot!"

Balur giggled slightly, which perplexed Alana for a moment, until he spoke. "I bet _**adad**_ gave it a few good hits for that!"

Alana chuckled. "Oh, he'd already done that before - he's got a powerful swing, your father. No, once again, it was Master Bilbo who came to the rescue. Bilbo jumped in and claimed that we were all infested with parasites, and the troll dropped your father back onto the ground without a second thought. With some... _gentle_ prodding from Thorin, who was the first to work out Bilbo's plan, the rest of us started trying to convince the trolls that yes, we were indeed infested with parasites. In the confusion that followed, Gandalf, the grey wizard, showed up. It was seemingly a small matter for him to raise his staff and split a rock in two, and the morning sunlight went streaming into the clearing. The trolls were stone within seconds, and we were able to get free." She deliberately left out that she had been hurt - she never told her brother about the worst of her injuries, not wanting to give him any nightmares about them. He was growing up now, but he was still just a boy, and she knew he wouldn't like hearing about her getting hurt.

"Wow," Balur breathed. "I can't believe my _**adad**_ almost got eaten by a troll!"

Alana frowned, though there was a bemused smile on her lips even as she did so. "Has your father not told you this?"

Balur shook his head. "He doesn't like telling stories, and Uncle Bofur hasn't been here enough to ask him to do it."

"Ah, yes," the Ranger said with a laugh, "Bofur certainly is a skilled story-teller. I'm sure he could make an ordinary walk in the woods sound interesting." With that, Alana stood up, patting Balur on the shoulder and playful ruffling Aragorn's hair - and consequently making him pout at her - before she turned back to the kitchen to talk to Cinna and Bombur.

* * *

Gilraen was getting ready for bed when Alana finally returned Aragorn to the guest suite. Aragorn was dragging his feet on the ground at this point, all his previous energy having completely vanished. Their mother was wearing a white nightdress, which had been brought over from the flourishing market in Dale for her use. Dale had much better relations with the Woodland Realm than Erebor (understandably so, though the dwarves and elves were slowly - _very_ slowly _-_ becoming more amiable towards one another), so they had been able to get an elvish nightgown for her, much to Gilraen's delight.

After ushering him into his bedroom to change into his nightclothes, Alana turned to her mother with a smile. "How have you been recently?" she asked, pulling her hair out of its braid. "I haven't seen you much in the past few days."

Gilraen smiled softly. "I'm okay, thank you. I ventured into Dale yesterday, and spent many an hour there. The people are very good and kind, and quite generous too."

"They've spent most of their lives living with barely a thing," Alana explained with a touch of sympathy to her tone. "It's not in their nature to ask for a lot."

Gilraen nodded thoughtfully. "I spent the day with Lady Dís today," she started cautiously. "She's a rather... boisterous woman, don't you think?"

"Yes, but she's a dwarf," Alana agreed with a shrug, crouching in front of the fire and grabbing a fire poker to gently readjust the burning logs. "Most of them are like that."

Her mother nodded slowly. "Yes, yes, I know, I just... It's a bit of a shock, when I am used to the behavioural habits of the elves."

Alana froze in her movements, then turned to face Gilraen, frowning. "Are you uncomfortable here?" she asked in concern. "I always knew you would be happier in Rivendell, but-"

"No, no," Gilraen cut in, shaking her head. "I'm fine, truly. But you are right that Rivendell is my home, and it is your brother's too - at least until such a time when he ventures out into the wild. We will need to return at some point, _pinig._ Your brother needs Lord Elrond's guidance, and I'm afraid I cannot see myself staying here very long."

Alana stared at her mother for a moment, before she swallowed thickly and stood, returning the fire poker to its place beside the heart. "When will you leave?" she asked.

Gilraen bit her lip, before inhaling sharply and responding, "I was thinking after King Thorin's coronation."

Alana flinched like she'd been physically struck. "You don't plan on staying for our wedding?" she asked, voice small.

Gilraen sighed. "Alana, we do not yet know when that will be. It could be in two months, or it could be in two years. Eru knows I would love to be there, but Estel and I have to go _home_ , _pinig_."

"And if it is in two months?" Alana asked, a bite to her tone now as she tried to stamp down the crushing hurt she felt. "Would you stay not even a month later for that?"

"If you know for sure when it is by the time of the coronation, then yes, of course." Gilraen glanced at the floor sadly. "I'm truly sorry, Alana, but-"

"Alana!" Gilraen was cut off by Aragorn's return, dressed now in a loose, soft tunic and a soft pair of breeches. He paused by the door, frowning when he noticed the upset look on his sister's face, and the sad, pleading one on his mother's. "Alana?" he asked in concern, worried for her.

Alana blinked away her tears and turned to look at him. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Estel, but I have to go." She forced a smile. "Goodnight, _muindor_." Then she glanced once more at her mother, noting the slightly ashen quality her face had taken on, before she shook her head and left the room.

Alana didn't so much as hesitate before she entered Thorin's chambers, nor did she bother to knock or announce her presence beforehand - she simply opened the door and shut it firmly behind her. She then crossed the room with long strides, before collapsing onto his bed. Thorin stared at her with his mouth half-open in shock, staring at her from where he was sat at his desk, a tattered piece of paper in front of him. Frowning at the expression on her face, Thorin returned his quill to its place in the black inkpot at the back of his desk, before he stood and made his way over to her.

When he sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes were swimming with tears, and faint trails of those already fallen lined the side of her face. "What's wrong, **_amrâlimê_**?" he asked softly, running his finger along her cheek and wiping away the tear that had started to fall.

Alana sighed, her face pinched with sorrow. "My family won't be here for the wedding," she told him, her voice cracking and hoarse. "My mother and Aragorn are going to head back to Rivendell after your coronation, apparently, unless we know for sure when the wedding will happen."

Thorin's face crumpled in sympathy, and he quickly drew her up into his arms, wrapping her up completely and letting her bury her face in his chest. "Alana, we can talk to the council about the wedding whenever we want to," he reminded her softly. "We can get them to agree to it and start planning before they have to leave." He sighed when she didn't move, dropping a sweet kiss on the top of her head. "If you want them to be there, we will make it so they are."

Alana sighed, the sound muffled by the material of his tunic. "But we want to give the council a chance to... to get used to me. To get used to the idea of _us_. We can't afford to rush this, Thorin."

"They have been here a few weeks now," he pointed out quietly. "Perhaps that is long enough." He pushed her back, then cradled her face in his hands, his calloused thumbs wiping away the fresh tears from her cheeks. "Whether with their approval or not, I _will_ marry you, Alana. And I will not have you go through that day without your family there. I will talk to the council about it tomorrow, alone, and then we will talk about facing them together, okay? Everything will be alright in the end, I promise."

* * *

Alana spent the following morning with Ori in the library, continuing with her khuzdul lessons. They had decreased in number now - only one every four days - due to her progress, and her other duties keeping her busy, but Ori had insisted quite forcefully that she would not stop until he had taught her all he knew himself. She had a feeling that might take a while, but didn't complain. She still enjoyed the lessons, and was finding it easier and easier to get through them without becoming frustrated with herself.

The two of them were interrupted around an hour and a half into the lesson by Thorin, who came into the library so quietly that they almost didn't notice him. It was only the creak of the door as it closed that caught their ears, and the two looked up in unison to watch as the soon-to-be King walked in.

"Might I talk with Alana in private, Ori?" Thorin asked, smiling at the younger dwarf, who offered a little smile in return and nodded. The usually rather shy dwarf had grown in confidence since the start of the quest, and despite the fact Thorin was to be King one day, the two shared a more kin-like friendship that superseded the fact that Thorin would be Ori's King. Thorin had been very clear about that - the company would go on treating him like a friend, not as a monarch. They had earned that much, he said.

Alana put down her quill and pushed aside her paper, wordlessly inviting Thorin to sit beside her. He did so without hesitation, though the furrow of his brows made her worry. "What is it, Thorin?" she asked nervously, almost fearing the answer. "Did you talk to the council?"

"I did."

"And?"

He blew out a long breath. "They have agreed to meet with us both later, but I believe they are divided. Half seem to support you - some far more emphatically than I would have thought - while the other half are still in doubt. There are, admittedly, one or two who will no doubt stir up trouble and try to fully oppose it." He sighed, then met her gaze with his own, his eyes firm and determined. Thorin captured her hands in his own and waited until she relaxed a little before speaking again. "We're walking what may be a long road," he whispered, leaning forward so his forehead rested against hers. "But we will walk it together, every step of the way, and we will convince them."

"But what if we don't?" she asked miserably.

Thorin chuckled. "Remember, Alana, that the purpose of the council is to _advise_ the King. They have no power to stop me from doing whatever I wish. Having their support would be better, but if we cannot win them over before the coronation, than I shall announce our wedding without it." He placed a hand on the back of her neck, drawing her in for a quick but loving kiss. "I promised we would make sure your family are there for the wedding, and I intend on keeping that promise. The council can complain and protest until they're blue in the face for all I care; this _will_ happen."

With a smile curling at her lips, Alana nodded slowly. "I believe you," she murmured, "but I do hope I can win them over. I have no desire to cause problems. And I know that if the council is divided in this, even after we are married, problems are what we will find ourselves facing."

"I have complete faith in you," Thorin muttered with a smile, shifting to press his lips to her forehead. "Now," he said, clearing his throat and pulling back, "I believe you have studies to return to, my Lady."

Alana snorted. "Studies which _you_ interrupted, my Lord," she shot back, grinning. "I shall claim no responsibility if I fall behind."

With a fond chuckle, Thorin tilted his head to the side. "Then I shall bother you no longer."

He turned and began walking away, but after a moment, Alana called out to him. "Thorin." He paused and looked back at her, his expression questioning. "I love you."

His face softened, and his smile sent a warm shiver through her. "I love you too, Alana." With another shared smile, Thorin left the library, and Ori wandered back in a few seconds later.

"Is everything okay?" he asked with concern.

Alana smiled. "Everything's fine," she assured him. "Thorin was just informing me we're to meet in front of the council this afternoon."

"Am I allowed to ask what for?" His face was cautious, as if fearing he'd offend her, though they both knew that was incredibly difficult to do.

With a shrug, Alana told him, "We're going to talk to them about getting married," she said honestly. "My mother wishes to return to Rivendell before long, so we are speeding things up to ensure that she and my brother will be here for the wedding."

"I wish you luck, though I don't think you'll need it," Ori said with a grin. "I'm sure they'll agree to it in no time."

Laughing, Alana nodded. "I hope you're right, and I appreciate your confidence. I guess we'll just have to see how things go."

"If you ever need any help, the company will provide it," he told her seriously. "Anything at all, understand?"

Alana blinked at the rare show of force behind his words, but then smiled, touched by his words and the promise behind them. "I understand," she murmured softly. "Thank you, Ori."

Ori beamed. "It's what friends are for." He glanced at Alana's page, and Alana physically saw the change in him as his mind returned to the lesson. She allowed him to continue, smiling to herself for the rest of the lesson.


	8. Council Of Thirteen

**A/N: Okay, a longer one this time. The long awaited council meeting... ;) Some Alana/Dis family moments in there too, for those of you who like them. Anywho, onwards! :)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: the-asian-fidget, Catherine. alice, Kuyen and LumosNox116. Thanks, guys! :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Hmm, hopefully this one lives up to expectation, then... :D**

 **StarAvengerWho: Haha, that's a good thing, right? ;)**

 **ro781727: ... I'm pretty sure they don't... From what I can remember, no one really knows what happens to men when they die - they go to Valinor only briefly, and then leave 'The World', but what that means isn't entirely clear. As for dwarves, again, it's not 100% written in concrete, but I think the general consensus is that they have their own place within the halls solely for their race (like with all the others). And no, Alana didn't know about Bilbo's plan with the trolls. She worked it out only a few seconds before Thorin, when she was grabbed by the troll.**

 **Tristana379: I hope the translating isn't too difficult for you. I can imagine it's quite time-consuming. And, don't worry, you don't have to be too scared about the meeting. Most of them are nice :D**

 **Guest: I tend to leave that note up there just so people know that the new story is posted, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to move that onto the end of the last chapter...**

* * *

 **'A river cuts through rock, not because of its power, but because of its persistence.' ~ Jim Watkins**

* * *

 **Chapter 8:**

"You must be mad to think I'm letting you go in there alone!" Dís protested heartily, a stern frown on her face.

Alana chuckled, sitting in front of a mirror and allowing Dís to tidy up her hair for the council. "I'll hardly be alone," she countered. "Thorin will be there, of course, and don't forget Balin is also part of the council. They're more than enough."

Dís huffed. "You don't know those Lords like I do, Alana," she said more seriously. "Some of them could have been vultures in another life; or wolves."

Alana chuckled. "I've probably faced worse," she pointed out.

Shaking her head, Dís' fingers paused, and she stepped around Alana to face her properly. "I cannot stress enough how important this meeting is," the Princess stated, and Alana's face dropped upon hearing the genuine fear and worry in Dís' voice. "I know as well as you that Thorin's decisions are final, and he won't let the council stop the two of you from getting married. But the council still have power - they are very high up in society, and a lot of them would do anything to remain there. _Anything._ "

Alana blinked. "Okay... But why would that affect this meeting?"

Dís sighed. "Because some of them have family members that they had hoped to marry off to someone of higher social standing. For some, that means marrying directly into the royal bloodline. They see you as an obstacle in their route to power. There are two in particular who you must be wary of - Lords Venrik and Boitu. Both have dwarrowdams in their family within fifty years of Thorin's age, and both have been trying to draw his eyes their way for longer than I can recall. My brother never showed any particular interest in either of the dams, but your arrival has meant that the Lords' chances to marry them off have all but disappeared. So be wary of them - they are easily insulted, easily angered, and I have no doubt that they may fall upon less-than-honourable means to further their own ends."

With a cocked eyebrow, Alana asked, "You mean you think they'll try to kill me?"

Dís slowly shook her head. "I find that very unlikely. They are not kind, by any means, but I don't think they would dare to make an attempt on your life. No, but they may try to threaten you, or scare you off, or even kidnap you and trick Thorin into believing you have left him of your own choice."

Alana was quiet for a moment, mulling over Dís' words, but then her face hardened, and she turned her eyes back to the mirror. "Let them try," she stated coldly, and with a sigh Dís let the matter drop, returning to her place behind Alana and making the last few adjustments to the Ranger's hair. Then a new thought stuck her mind, and Alana cautiously asked, "Dís, how did you cope after your husband died?"

Dís froze in place, caught off guard by the question. Then she sighed. "It wasn't easy," she admitted. "There were many moments when I thought it would be impossible for me to go on living without him. The early days were the worst - I kept turning to speak to him, and sometimes I sat for hours in front of the fire waiting for him to come home, only to remember that he was never coming back." She placed her hands on Alana's shoulders, meeting the woman's eyes in the mirror. "Fili and Kili kept me going," she admitted at last. "They needed me, and their father's death hurt them just as much as it did me. It was my determination to be there for them that helped me to cope." Her eyes lowered. "But one thing you must understand is that the pain of loss never goes away completely. I still miss him dearly, despite not having seen him for more than seventy years. And it still hurts to think he's gone from this world."

Alana averted her gaze to the ground, fiddling with her fingers. "Thorin will die one day," she whispered. "And I will have to go on without him." She met Dís' gaze again, eyes tearful. "When that day comes, will you help me? I don't think I'll be able to get through it alone."

"You'll never be alone, _**namad**_ ," Dís murmured soothingly. "And I will help as much as I can. I cannot promise I will be able to take the pain away, though. I know you have lost your father, but I must warn you that losing your other half... It's a different kind of agony, a special kind of torture. When he dies, you will bear the hole in your heart that he leaves behind for the rest of your life."

Alana smiled sadly, nodding her head. It was a harsh subject to talk about, but she appreciated Dís' honesty on the matter. Inhaling sharply, Alana glanced over her appearance in the mirror and then stood up. "I ought to go, before I'm late," she said, smiling at Dís with as much sincerity as she could muster. "Thank you, _muinthel_ , for all your help."

Dís nodded. "Just be sure to come and find me if you get any trouble from those **_gamil kakhuf (old turds)_**."

Alana laughed at Dís' words, but offered an agreeing nod nonetheless, and with a parting grin Alana headed for the council room.

It wasn't far from the royal suites, and Alana was beaten there only by Thorin, who offered a smile from his place a few feet from the table when he looked her way.

" _ **Sasakhabiya abnâmul**_ _ **, (You look beautiful,)**_ " he told her.

Alana rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, because Dís redoing my hair made all the difference in the world," she murmured sarcastically, before planting a playful peck on his lips. "But thank you, anyway."

Thorin chuckled at her behaviour, taking her hands in his and looking up at her, his eyes becoming serious. "How do you feel?"

"I'm feeling okay, actually," she said, smiling. "Your sister and I spoke while she was helping me and... it helped me to get rid of my nerves, oddly enough. It wasn't the sort of conversation that would normally do that, but-"

"You're far from a normal woman," he finished with a cheeky wink. Alana laughed, not denying it, and not ashamed of it either.

"Such a charmer you are, Master Oakenshield," she teased.

Thorin's answering grin was wide and borderline mischievous, before they were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Three of the twelve dwarves in the council entered, offering polite inclinations of their heads to Thorin and Alana, before taking their seats. Thorin tilted his head back to Alana. "Still feeling alright?" he checked.

Alana rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Thorin. You know you can't afford to check on me every five seconds once the council has begun - just take my word for it, okay?"

Thorin chuckled. "As you wish, my Lady."

The two paused when a train of seven more Lords came in, followed at last by Balin, who closed the door behind him. With the whole council now present, Alana and Thorin moved to take their seats at the table. Thorin sat at the head of the table, of course, and Alana sat on the chair to his immediate right.

"As you were all present at this morning's meeting, you know why we are here." Thorin met the eyes of every member of the council as he spoke, his gaze hard and stern. "You have been given several weeks to think on this - whether you have been directed to or not, it cannot be denied that you all have your thoughts about my betrothal to the Lady Alana. I would ask now that each of you share your opinions. Do not be afraid to speak honestly, but I would ask that you remain open-minded for whatever we may wish to say to you in return."

No one said anything at first, none of them wanting to be the first to speak, before Balin shifted in his chair. All eyes were instantly on him. The white haired dwarf gave a wry smile. "I'm sure it's no secret that I have known the lass the longest of all but the King," he began, shooting Alana a covert wink. "And I like to think I am a good judge of character. We travelled together for many months last year, and I personally spoke to her many times during the journey about what was blooming between her and our esteemed King." Alana let out a quiet snort at that, much to the surprise of many near her, but she couldn't help but smile in remembrance of those talks. Balin also had a hint of a smile on his face as he continued. "Lady Alana has multiple times shown her ability to be a just and fair leader - she has been the leader of her own kind since she was just seventeen. And what happened to her in Goblin Town speaks for itself; her loyalty is unwavering. I have said this before, and I shall say it a thousand more times if it proves necessary: I can think of no one better to take up the throne by our King's side."

"For those of us who are unaware," an elderly dwarf with deep wrinkles and paling hair piped up, his beard neatly tied into a single braid down his front, "might I inquire as to exactly _what_ happened in the goblin tunnels? It is difficult to tell what is true and what is false when all one hears is rumour and speculation."

Thorin glanced at Alana, who just shrugged noncommittally. He turned back to face the suddenly very curious council. "When our company was incarcerated by the goblins in the mountains," he began, "the goblin King threatened to torture young Master Ori to get the information he wanted about where we were heading. Lady Alana stepped in to stop it, and in doing so was... _harmed_... in his place."

"Did she tell him?" a younger dwarf asked, his beard and hair thick, and a dull bronze in colour. His eyes were almost black, and there was a coldness to them that immediately put Alana on edge.

Thorin quirked an eyebrow. "No," he answered firmly. "She did not. Despite their best efforts, the destination of our journey remained something they did not find out - regardless of the fact the torture nearly killed her."

Alana quirked an eyebrow at him. "That was more having my foot torn to shreds by a warg, I would say," she interjected, smiling when Thorin turned to her.

He shook his head. "You did not see what I did," he countered. "Your foot injury might have been severe, but it was the wounds on your back that caused Oin to fear for your life."

"Aye, lass," Balin cut in. "'Tis true. That was a long night if ever there was one. For all of us."

Alana blinked, slightly startled to learn that, but before she could speak the dark eyed dwarf spoke up again. "Is it also true that she shares the blood of the old Kings of Arnor?"

Thorin didn't so much as bat an eyelid, though Alana stiffened almost imperceptibly. "She does," Thorin said. "She is, in fact, one of the few that are known to be connected to that line."

"Royal blood?" a new voice piped up, this coming from a grey haired dwarf with a beard long enough that he could tuck it into his belt. He settled back further into his chair. "Well then," he stated at length, "there is little left to say on my behalf. Only this; if she is truly of a King's blood, then you have my support as well."

Thorin titled his head to the side. "Thank you, Lord Avar."

"When was it that she was gifted with her dwarfish braids, my Lord?" another older dwarf questioned. He was the shortest in the group, with thick eyebrows and a stern face, though his eyes seemed kind. "That is not a gesture to be so lightly overlooked."

Thorin hummed thoughtfully. "If my memory serves me, Alana received her braids in the latter half of August. Just before we arrived at the edge of Mirkwood, and just after we left the house of the skin changer, Beorn."

"And there were no protests against it?"

"None at all," Balin cut in, his word being better to rely on, since Thorin did not take part in the original conversation to plan giving Alana her braids. "It was not a matter of 'if', but simply 'when'."

The dwarf Lord nodded. "To have such vehement support from not just one, but thirteen dwarves is a great achievement, my Lady," he said, bowing his head to the side. "And I have heard word that Lord Dain of the Iron Hills also supports your union to his cousin. As such, I give my support as well."

"I myself am undecided," another dwarf piped up, a contemplative frown on his face. "It cannot be denied that you are woman of great honour and skill, not to mention kind and compassionate, as any Queen should be. Already you have selflessly wandered into dangerous grounds to save the lives of a few miners." Alana's eyes flashed at that, not liking the way he spoke of the miners as if their lives were worth less than his, but a subtle glance from Thorin stopped her from speaking out. The dwarf Lord continued on, oblivious. "But the fact remains that you are not a dwarrowdam. The blood of the royal line would no longer be pure should you birth any children."

"That is true," yet another new voice piped up, this time coming from a dwarf with a beard almost as short as Thorin's, his eyes deep-set and weary. "But this, like many of the royal unions of our past, will improve our ties to other kingdoms. If the Lady Alana is a blood relative of the Kings of Arnor, then she will be a relative of the King of Gondor, if and when he returns. Gondor is a powerful kingdom, and a strong ally to have."

"The Gondorian line has ended," the black-eyed dwarf cut in sharply. "None but a direct descendent of the old Kings could reclaim the throne, and no such man exists. A marriage to someone who is only distantly connected to that line would offer no benefits."

Thorin and Alana exchanged looks, Thorin questioning, Alana troubled. She knew that informing these dwarves of the truth of her lineage would be a huge aid to their case, but Aragorn was neither old enough to defend himself, nor ready to learn of his place in the world. And if they said anything, there might be a chance that he found out before his time. Knowing Thorin would leave this entirely up to her, she instead turned to Balin, silently asking for his opinion. He paused, eyes drifting to his left, at some of the council members, before inhaling and offering a nod.

"Would you care to include us in your silent conversation, Lady Alana?" the cold dwarf asked, his voice clearly disapproving.

Alana met his eyes, her own firm and hard. "The Gondorian line remains intact," she told him sharply, causing something of a stir amongst the others. "The throne remains unclaimed, yes, but there are those alive who have the right to take it back." She paused, thinking through her words very carefully. "There is one who lived in my village before it was destroyed, whose name is Aragorn. He is the direct heir of Elendil, and the rightful King of Gondor."

"Then why has he not reclaimed the throne?" a silver haired dwarf asked curiously, his eyes the colour of deep amber.

Alana tilted her head to the side. "The time is not right," she stated calmly, then decided to add on a little more. "The dúnedain have their duties in the west. At the present time, those duties cannot be abandoned; the halflings of the Shire have no desire to see battle, and with the growing darkness, the presence of the dúnedain Rangers is more necessary now than it has been for a long time."

"Would you tell us about your people, Lady Alana?" the dwarf Lord asked, and Alana blinked in response, before acquiescing.

"The dúnedain are not so different than the men of Rohan and Gondor. Their lives stretch longer, and any one of them may live to see 200 winters if they are lucky, though those of the King's line tend to live longer." She paused, frowning. "By and large, they are peaceful, hardworking folk - farmers and the like. Most men are taught how to handle a blade, and some women also learn to defend themselves, though it is not the norm for them to do so. Some of our kind became Rangers, like myself. Rangers are trained to track and hunt, and are the greatest warriors of our kind. As I said, some have taken up position around the Shire, protecting those folk from the dark beings that wander there from time to time. Others simply wander the northern lands, living in solitude, though their main focus is also the defeat of any enemies they find." She let out a thoughtful hum. "Though the Rangers are scattered, they are still under the command of the Chieftain. On the rare occasion that they are needed, it is in him that their allegiances lie, as he is the heir of Elendil; to be protected above all others."

"And are there many women amongst the ranks of the Rangers, Lady Alana?" the dark eyed dwarf asked, his gaze probing.

Alana met his gaze evenly, though there was a hint of warning there. She sensed something off about this Lord, and guessed he was probably one of the ones Dís had warned her about. In that single look, she informed him that she would not be letting her guard down around him, and he responded in turn with a condescending smirk. All this happened in less than a second, and no one seemed to notice the exchange. "Not many, no." Her answer was a little more curt now, though she focused on smoothing out her voice when she realised how it sounded. "Most women choose a simpler life, and they are encouraged to do so. Those that choose to become a Ranger are, however, supported as much as the men, and many of the Rangers' greatest warriors over time have been women."

The silver haired dwarf hummed thoughtfully. "There are certain benefits to having a Queen who can fend for herself and protect others," he mused. "Your actions in the Battle of the Five Armies are well known to those in the mountain now."

Alana smiled sadly. "I'm sure a lot of what is said about it is untrue. I fought in that battle, yes, but so did hundreds of others - some of whom did not come out of that battle alive."

"And some of those that did owe it to you," he countered, and Alana glanced at him, perplexed. The old dwarf smiled. "Did you know that my nephew was part of Dain's army before we moved here? He has said many times that his life was saved by you during the battle - that you intercepted a blade meant to take him out." She was stunned, unable to think of anything to say. She knew she had probably saved a few lives that day, just as many others would likely have saved her without her knowing, but it was odd to think that someone remembered her as the one to save him. The old dwarf smiled. "Perhaps that makes me biased," he continued, "but anyone who can put their life on the line to save someone else deserves, if nothing else, the utmost respect. You have gained that in many of the people, and to have won the heart of the King is no small feat." He winked over at Thorin, who rolled his eyes fondly at the dwarf, and Alana realised then that he had probably known an awful lot of these dwarves for most of his life. They were more than just the King's council - many of these dwarves were likely also his personal friends. "For that reason, and many others, I shall say that I would be proud to have you as our Queen."

* * *

Alana was rather surprised to walk out of the council hall feeling so heartened. Six of the council had given their support for the marriage, three were undecided, and only two had declared that they were against it. Thorin told her later that these two were indeed Lords Boitu and Venrik, and that they would always have been their greatest opponents. Lord Boitu was the younger dwarf, with the dark eyes - though he was still nearing his 160th birthday, apparently. Lord Venrik had been silent for the entirety of the meeting, and she wouldn't have known he was there at all had he not decided to speak his opinion, being one of the last to do so. He was quiet and calm, with a demeanour that was the antithesis of aggressive, but Thorin told her that he was as sly and cunning as a fox, and would be the greater threat. Boitu was hard-headed and generally hot-tempered, but he was mostly just bark and no bite.

Venrik was loyal to the Durin line - he had proved that many times - but it was clear that loyalty came at a price. His daughter had been a possible suitor for Thorin since he was just a hundred, the girl being around forty years younger, and Thorin admitted that he might have considered marrying her once upon a time. She was beautiful and generally a kind woman, but she had a sinister dark side that she had shown to him once - one that had been born of her short temper, and which consequently destroyed all chance she ever had of becoming his wife. Neither she nor Lord Venrik knew that, so they continued to hope in vain.

Boitu's sister, Bergni, was every bit a proper dam, with a much calmer temperament than her brother. But she was the epitome of the term 'weak-willed'. She blindly did as her brother asked, no matter how uncomfortable it made her. Thorin pitied her for the situation she had been forced into, having worked out that she had no desire to be there, but she lacked the courage to break herself out of it. Upon being told this, Alana pitied her too, and mentally began making plans to meet and talk to this poor dwarrowdam.

"That was rather successful, I would say," Thorin noted, drawing her from her thoughts.

Alana glanced down at him and smiled. "I agree. I had no idea there were so many rumours floating around about me. Although I must say, my favourite is the one about me being some kind of enchantress. I had to work very hard not to laugh out loud at that one."

Thorin smirked up at her. "I almost believe it," he said off-handedly, and Alana gaped at him. His face broke into a grin. "Oh, do not look so surprised. Lord Findur was quite right when he said winning my heart was no small feat - many have attempted such a thing over the years, and failed. You achieved it without trying. If nothing else, you are enchanting to me."

Alana shook her head, smiling in faint amusement. "You are such a charmer," she grumbled.

Thorin laughed. "Only with you, _**atamanel**_. Though I'm glad to hear my efforts are not in vain."

Alana scoffed. "You could be the least charming person to have ever walked through Middle Earth and it wouldn't matter - I'd still love you. Believe me, your charm, though appreciated, gets you practically nowhere."

Chuckling again, Thorin tilted his head to the side. "Noted." He paused in the middle of the hallway, causing her to do the same, turning to him with a curious expression on her face. "Please don't worry yourself over Lord Boitu and Lord Venrik. Their opposition may delay things slightly, but I stand by my promise."

"Thorin, I know that," she said, smiling down at him. "I trust you, and I know you will keep your word. Believe me, those Lords only make me more determined to prove myself worthy of you."

Thorin shook his head. "You have nothing to prove, _**melhekhinhul**_."

Alana chuckled. "I appreciate the sentiment, my Lord, but I think you may be slightly biased in your opinion."

"That may be so, but that doesn't make it any less true." He smiled up at her, grasping her hands in his. "One day," he murmured, "you will learn to see yourself as I see you. Until then, I will spend every day reminding you, if that's what it takes." One of his hands moved to rest on her cheek, his eyes molten. " _Gi melin_."

Alana blinked, surprised by the whisper of elvish flowing from him lips, before she beamed down at him and slammed her lips down on his, murmuring her words of love against them. They parted every few seconds to draw breath, before their lips melded once more, and they became completely oblivious to the world around them.

The countdown to the day of their wedding had officially begun. And neither of them believed it could possibly come fast enough.


	9. Approval

**A/N: Hey, guys, what's up?! :) Happy Saturday to you all (or not, if time zones throw things out of whack). Just a fore-warning that things are becoming a bit crazy on my end, so - whilst I'll do my very best to get the updates posted on time - things might be a little on the later side for the next week or two. Hope you don't mind. Anywho, onwards! :)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: KobrasKicks, Hefster, AstraeaCassiopeia, Holana, marierollin7, WideAwake94 and CrystalVixen93.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Sparky She-Demon: Hehe, maybe, maybe not. You'll just have to wait and see.**

 **Dreamer4life16: HIIIIIIIII! I missed you too! It was weird not having you here. Still, I'm glad you're back! :) I had a great time, thank you. Okay, so, the review... Seriously, you've got to get more sleep! I'm flattered and all, but SLEEP GOD DAMMIT! ;) I mean, I love the weirdness of your review, and the crazier the best, as far as I'm concerned, but make sure you sleep to. I'll make it an order if I have to :P And there may or may not be some stuff going on with LV and LB; you'll just have to wait and see. No spoilers... ;) Alana's mother, first of all, is called Gilraen (though you got the first letter, so give yourself a pat on the back ;)). And don't worry about her, she'll come around. But I've never really pictured Gilraen as the sort of woman who can handle lots of big changes at once. And the talk of Thorin's death... Nah... he'll be fine... yup... absolutely dandy... ;P**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Thanks! :)**

 **Tristana379: Dis is a bit of a fun character to right, I have to admit. Hopefully she's coming off as realistic... :) Wow, two chapters done. That's impressive. I wish _I_ had a productivity rate that fast.**

 **CrystalVixen93: Thanks, and here you go! :)**

 **Hefster: I started writing the first half of this series before, yeah. I got to about chapter 14 before going on an extended hiatus. This is me going back to it and getting it finished. This second book, though, is completely brand new.**

 **ro781727: You can understand Alana's hesitation to tell them, though. It's a secret she's kept for years, and these dwarves are strangers to her.**

 **Guest: True, they're fillers, and don't really add to the overall plot, but that doesn't mean they didn't happen at all. They are referenced only briefly, and it doesn't make that much difference to the whole story. Besides, in those chapters, new things about Alana were revealed. They're part of her character development, so it'd be stranger, I think, _not_ to go back to them at some point. **

* * *

**'The only place where your dream becomes impossible is in your own thinking.' ~ Robert Schuller**

* * *

 **Chapter 9:**

Thorin's coronation was an event to be witnessed and attended by many of the kingdoms west of the Misty Mountains, and some to the east as well. With some gentle urging from Alana, Thorin agreed to open the doors of Erebor to men, dwarves and elves alike, for the first time since Thror's own coronation. Envoys from Rohan, Gondor, Dale, Lothlórien, Mirkwood, the Iron Hills, and Rivendell had all sent word that their invitations had been accepted.

The first of the guests arrived six days before the day of the coronation. A party of five arrived from the plains of Rohan, all strong and riding stunning warhorses, all but one bearing the long blonde hair that was so common in the land of the horselords. Three of those to arrive were simply guards, but the other two were the King's advisor and the King himself.

Fengel, son of Folcwine, had something of a reputation, heard even by those miles away. Alana had never met the man himself, but had visited the city of Edoras, and had heard many things about the elderly King. First and foremost was that his son, Prince Thengel, had left Rohan at a young age, after various quarrels and disagreements with his father. Another thing she'd heard was that, after the deaths of his two brothers, Fengel had become overly doted on, and had quickly become spoilt and greedy. She was not surprised that he had decided to come to Erebor, even if only to bear witness to its riches.

Thankfully, with the coronation so close, Alana did not have to be there to greet the King, and was also unlikely to run into him by chance, what with the guest houses being on the opposite end of the market to the royal suites.

The day after the men of Rohan arrived, so too came the elves of Rivendell and the dwarves of the Iron Hills. Alana was able to spare a only few minutes from her work to greet Lord Elrond, who had come with his sons and the Lord Glorfindel. Her mother and brother also came to greet the elven Lords, and happily agreed to lead them to their houses, while Alana returned to the celebration hall to continue setting up for the coronation.

Three days before the coronation marked the arrival of the men of Gondor - five guards, along with the son of the Steward. Ecthelion proved to be a kind man, though Alana felt a little strange interacting with him, knowing that his family was technically still under the command of hers - not that he knew this, and not that she had any intention of telling him this either. He told her of Denethor, his son, and of his father, Turgon, and when asked, he told her of the people of Gondor. They were safe and happy, prospering under the Steward's rule, and this gladdened her heart more than she could say. When Ecthelion asked her about her curiosity, she simply told him that her ancestors came from Gondor, and that she felt a connection to the kingdom through her bloodline. It wasn't exactly a lie, and he certainly seemed to accept it.

That night, Thorin joined Alana in her chambers, much to her surprise. "Are you sure you should be here, Thorin?" she asked. "So close to the coronation, regardless of our intentions to marry, being caught in my chambers after dark is the last thing you want to happen."

Thorin smiled. "And since when have propriety and reputation been of any importance to you?"

"Since my future husband reclaimed his homeland," she shot back, though her lips twitched up at the corners. "After the war, things were different. Nightmares are nothing to laugh at, and we all needed each other's support. But those times have passed, and now we must be careful. Especially with our wedding on the line."

Thorin smiled, and admitted, "Our wedding is what I have come here to talk about."

Alana paused. "Oh," she murmured. Over the past weeks, Thorin and Alana had attended meeting after meeting, trying repeatedly to sway the last of the dwarves in the council in favour of their request. Each time she had stepped out of that room, Alana had felt conflicted over whether or not they'd actually ever achieved anything (though Thorin was always quick to reassure her that, yes, they _were_ making a difference). Alana blinked, then cleared her head with a quick shake. "What about it?"

"The date is set - June 10th."

Her mouth fell slack. "You... You mean the council said yes?"

Thorin smiled broadly at her. "Those who were undecided before have all gone in favour of the union. By dwarfish tradition, only three quarters of the council need to agree before a decision is considered made. With ten out of the twelve members of the council in favour..."

"We're getting married?" she asked breathlessly, hardly daring to believe it.

He nodded, eyes crinkling at the sides. "We are."

An elated squeak left Alana's lips, before she bodily threw herself at Thorin, her arms wrapping around his neck. Thorin's arms came to make a brace around her back, and he tilted his head up to meet her lips in a fervent kiss. Alana's hands quickly found their way into his hair, gently tugging at the long strands, and Thorin responded in return by pulling her even closer against him, until there was no space between them.

A knock on the door, followed by a voice, had them reluctantly pulling apart. "Alana?"

Alana chuckled. "My mother's timing is nothing, if not impeccable," she murmured, kissing Thorin quickly, before untangling herself from his hold and heading to the door. She pulled it open and smiled at Gilraen.

The blonde woman blinked, then her eyes skipped over Alana's shoulder to see Thorin there. Something in her face shifted, an emotion Alana couldn't really name appearing on her face, before Gilraen became almost amused. "Am I interrupting?" she asked, an edge of coyness to her voice that had Alana glaring half-heartedly at her.

"No, actually," Alana replied blandly. "Come on in."

Gilraen entered hesitantly, offering Thorin a polite smile and receiving a nod in return, before Thorin turned to Alana. "I'll leave you to it," he told her, approaching her and taking her hand. She beamed down at him, and he couldn't resist smiling broadly in return. " _ **Zann galikh, amrâlimê, (Good night, my love.)**_ "

Alana repeated his words, then watched him leave with a smile on her face, before turning to her mother. "What is it you wished to see me about?"

Gilraen sat on the edge of her bed. "I don't think that's important at the moment," she murmured. "You seem suddenly incredibly happy. Did something happen?"

Alana's face was locked into a permanent grin, and her joy practically radiated off her. She sighed happily, collapsing back onto her bed beside Gilraen. "I'm getting married," she murmured dazedly.

Gilraen blinked, amused. "You knew that already, Alana," she pointed out.

Alana rolled her eyes, laughing lightly. "No, I mean it's definite now. The council approved, and the date is set." She let out an excited squeak. "It's finally happening!"

Gilraen's face lit up. "When?"

"June 10th, Thorin said," the Ranger replied instantly, sitting up again and looking at her mother. "Please say you'll be there, _naneth_. Please."

Gilraen nodded. "Of course, sweetie. And now that we know when it is, I'll help with some of the preparations. Are you having a wedding that follows the traditions of men or dwarves?"

"Both," Alana replied with a smile. "Though they are similar enough that you almost wouldn't be able to tell them apart. Dwarves exchange braids instead of rings, but Thorin and I have agreed that we will have both. And, of course, there's the fact that my wedding day will also be my coronation day." Her eyes widened. "By Eru!"

Gilraen tensed in alarm. "What is it?"

"I'm going to be Queen," Alana breathed. She blinked, then looked at her mother's once again bemused expression. "I knew that before, of course I did, but now it's so close and so very _real_ and... Mahal, _naneth_ , it's terrifying! I don't know anything about being a Queen! What if I'm a terrible Queen? What if everyone thinks they've made a huge mistake in-"

Hand covering her daughter's mouth, Gilraen cut in firmly. "Alana, you have been the Queen for these people since the battle. Perhaps you did not hold the title officially, but you have been leading them and they look up to you as their ruler. Just like Thorin. You should have more faith in yourself, sweetie. I'm sure very little will change."

Alana exhaled heavily, removing her mother's hand from her mouth. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Everything's just suddenly hitting me so hard, you know? Thorin's coronation is in _two days!_ And yet I feel like there's so much more to do before the time comes." She sighed. "Sorry, I'm just stressed. Once the coronation is over, I should be better."

Gilraen chuckled. "Oh, you poor, naive little girl." Alana frowned at her mother and opened her mouth to protest, but Gilraen cut her off again. "The weeks approaching your wedding will be some of the most chaotic of your life - doubly so for you, since, as you so aptly pointed out, you are being coronated on the same day. You won't have a moment's peace until the set date, I would wager."

Alana groaned, flopping back on her bed. Then her smile appeared once more. "It'll be worth it," she muttered.

Gilraen laughed airily. "Well of course it will! You're getting married! It'll be the happiest moment of your life. At least until you have your first child, anyway."

"Oh dear, let's not go that far, please." Alana shook her head. "One thing at a time, _naneth_. That's about all I can cope with right now."

Gilraen scoffed. "Don't act as if you haven't thought about it. You are your mother's daughter, after all."

Alana rolled her eyes. "Dreams of the future tend to have a slightly different meaning when your life - and the life of your love, for that matter - are under threat. Of course I've thought about it! I've also thought about losing all that, and..." She sighed. "Sorry," she murmured. "You're the last person I should be talking to about this. You know exactly how I felt, I'm sure."

Gilraen smiled sadly. "I do," she stated simply. "And you're right, it does hurt. I miss your father too, Alana; every day of my life. But I have you still, and I have your brother. And, frankly, I'm possibly more excited by the idea of you having children than you are!"

Alana blinked, tilted her head up to look at her mother. "Really?"

Nodding, Gilraen leaned back, lying beside Alana and gently entwining their fingers. "Really. I will admit, seeing Thorin for the first time surprised me - not just because he's a dwarf, but because he's so intimidating and so powerful and just so..."

"Thorin," Alana finished with a laugh.

Gilraen smiled. "Yes, I suppose it is rather unique to him. I honestly couldn't understand it at first - I thought he was so stern and severe, and he was _that_ sort of person that you've been butting heads with your entire life. But he's completely different around you. You soften him up, and I know how much he adores you. It's like you bring out a whole new side of him. You, and his nephews, too." Gilraen glanced to the side, meeting Alana's warm eyes, and Gilraen lifted a hand to gently stroke Alana's cheek. "You're such a good soul," she murmured softly. "And so is he. And you two truly are meant to be; you fit together like the pieces of a puzzle." Gilraen moved her head to stare at the ceiling. "Every time I see you two together, I can see how happy you are. I know that'll never fade. It's thoughts like that which make me think of your future - where you have children of your own. You'll be amazing parents. And I know it'll be hard to find children in this world who will be more loved than them." Gilraen smiled softly. "Almost more than anything, I want to be there to see it. To see you grow up into the mother I know you can be."

Alana squeezed her mother's hand. "Thank you," she whispered. "And you're right - I have thought about it. More than once. It's something that excites me as much as it scares me."

"When the time comes, there'll be no fear," Gilraen told her. "You'll have moments of doubt, I'm sure, but you won't be afraid. Because you'll know you can do it, and you'll know you have all the support in the world."

Alana smiled. "I have the biggest family ever," she whispered in quiet awe, and Gilraen laughed.

"That you do. It's a family I've no doubt will continue to grow." She pressed a kiss to Alana's forehead, and then sat up. "Well, I think I must retire for the night."

Alana laughed, sitting up as well. " _Naneth_ , you never told me what you came in here to say in the first place."

Gilraen hummed. "That's true. Well, it's nothing major - certainly, the news of your wedding is far more important. But, if you want to know, Kili invited Estel to go out hunting with him in the morning. I know you're busy, but I came to ask if you'd be able to accompany them."

Alana frowned. "Estel's going hunting? In the forest?"

"From what I understand, yes." Gilraen frowned. "I know there is no danger out there, and that Kili will keep an eye on him, but... Well, I'm his mother. I worry."

Alana nodded slowly. "I understand, but I'm afraid I'll be far too busy in the morning. There's nothing I can do."

Gilraen smiled in understanding, then left Alana alone.

The Ranger sat on her bed in silence, frowning. Her stomach was churning with mixed feelings - on the one hand, she was pleased that Aragorn was going out into the world, putting all his hard work into practice. On the other hand, it stung that he hadn't asked her to do it. Her mother was right that Kili would look after him, and she had nothing to worry about, but... It had always been her plan to teach Aragorn how to hunt, and track, and survive alone in the wild. She just hadn't realised that, in coming to Erebor, and in becoming Thorin's wife, she would be losing any chance she had of teaching her brother such skills. Lord Elrond would take over his training, along with Elladan and Elrohir and probably some of the existing Rangers, and she would be here, ruling over the dwarves.

She'd always known she'd be sacrificing a lot to stay with Thorin, had spent two days in turmoil over which path to choose. Thinking about it hypothetically and experiencing the reality of her choice were two very different things.

When Alana retired for the night, she did so with sorrow weighing on her heart, and before she fell asleep she silently mourned the loss of the life she had always thought she'd lead. And if she let slip a few tears, she never told anyone.

* * *

The elves of Mirkwood and Lothlórien arrived together the next morning, King Thranduil and Lady Galadriel at the lead, followed by a few of their own guards. Alana was unsurprised to see Tauriel amongst those who had arrived with the King, though was rather shocked to see the _elleth_ now had a scar on her left cheek - pale and jagged. Tauriel wore the scar with pride, but Alana knew that, in the eyes of Tauriel's kin, her beauty was forever tarnished. For the woodland elves, that was an almost damning thing; to have your beauty taken away meant losing almost all chance of finding someone to love and marry. Despite their rocky relationship, Alana couldn't help but pity the guard Captain, for a moment.

She was, however, surprised to note that Legolas was not amongst the congregation of Mirkwood elves.

Alana was directed by Thorin to lead the elves to their guest suites, as the soon-to-be dwarf King still had a wary disposition towards elfkind, though he seemed to no longer openly abhor them. Lord Celeborn had remained in Lothlórien to look after it, and Alana quickly learned that Legolas had headed to the west, having finally convinced his father to allow him to further explore the world.

Alana was glad that her tentative truce with the elven King proved to have remained intact, though they were still far from friendly with one another. Lady Galadriel was as warm and soothing as ever, and full-heartedly congratulated Alana on her upcoming wedding, though informed her that she thought it unlikely that she would be able to attend. Alana was saddened to learn this, but understood, knowing the Lady of Light had far more worrying things to focus on. King Thranduil made no comment at all about the wedding, and Alana guessed that was because he had no idea if he'd even be invited. Heck, _she_ didn't even know that.

That day was filled with the hectic bustle of last-minute preparations. The celebration hall's new banners were hung on the wall, all of them strongly and immaculately designed and made. Torches and hanging braziers lit the room in a bright orange light, highlighting the enormity of the space. Thousands could probably fit under this one ceiling, and many hundreds were going to. The coronation ceremony was to take place at noon, where the dwarves, elves and men were expected to attend in their finery to watch as Thorin was crowned King of Erebor, and the brothers became official Princes. Following that, the room would empty, people returning home to change into their ordinary clothes. While that happened, the massive tables would be brought into the celebration hall and laden with food. From there, a great feast would occur, and wouldn't end until evening the next day, at which point the coronation would be officially concluded.

Alana visited the forges, collecting Fili and Kili's finished crowns from Galmar. Both were beautiful and strong, made predominantly of silver, with gold and dark grey inlays. At the centre of each crown was the symbol that each Prince had chosen for themselves - besides that, they were identical. The crowns were obviously not as grand as that of the King, but Alana smiled to herself nonetheless, knowing they would suit the brothers remarkably well. She thanked the smith heartily, offering a larger payment for the crowns than was originally agreed. He didn't protest to that, though Alana figured he wouldn't. Her next trip was to the seamstress, who had been tasked with making the Princes' ceremonial clothing, along with Alana's. These, too, came out perfectly. Both the Princes had black breeches and grey undershirts, and silver belts with buckles bearing the crest of the Durin line. Fili's tunic and overcoat were both a deep red, so dark they were almost black. Kili's were identical in style, but were instead deep blue. Alana's dress was a sea-blue, with a thick, draping sleeves. A surcoat had been sown into the design, darker than the rest of the dress. The dress came with a gold belt to go over the top, and an emerald necklace.

Alana took the clothes back to the royal suites, placing her own outfit on her bed, complete with the dark blue shoes Dís had delivered to her earlier. She then headed to Fili's room, knocking on the door. The Prince opened it a moment later, clad only in his breeches and loose undershirt.

Alana blinked at him. "Don't tell me you've only just gotten out of bed," she teased, only half serious, as Fili stepped aside to let her in.

"Of course not," he scoffed, grinning at her. "I do, however, have some oaths to memorise."

Nodding, Alana held out his clothes. "For you, Prince Fili."

He rolled his eyes, taking the clothes and looking them over. He grinned. "I like them," he noted. "Though they're a little less blue than I thought they'd be."

Alana chuckled. "Yes, I had the same reaction. Apparently tradition states that, while the King and second-in-line wear deep blue, the heir wears red. Personally I think that's a bit mad, but there you go." Fili grinned again, moving over to hang up his clothes in his wardrobe. Alana smiled at his back. "Are you nervous?" she asked, perching on his bed.

Fili hesitated a moment, then sighed. "A little," he admitted. "I know that not much will change, and Thorin's been preparing me for this moment my entire life, but it's nonetheless daunting."

Alana scoffed. "Oh, you'll be fine."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Thanks for that show of understanding, Alana," he grumbled.

With a smile, Alana stood up and took his hands between her own, squeezing them gently. "I understand," she told him softly. "But I do not share your concerns. I know that you will take up this role with all the grace and courage that you hold in that big heart of yours, and you will be an amazing Prince." She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You know, there is a reason I told you that you have the heart of a lion; it is because you do. I could not possibly be more proud of you, Fee."

Fili returned her smile. "Thank you, auntie. That means a lot." He shot her a grin. "Especially since you probably know how I'm feeling."

Huffing, Alana nodded. "I do, yeah."

"Oh, and I heard your wedding has finally been approved," Fili added with another wide grin, which Alana was powerless to stop herself from mirroring. Alana didn't mind the sudden topic change; she was just happy that he was feeling a little better now. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," she murmured, still grinning. Then she shook her head and picked up Kili's clothes. "Well, I shan't keep you from your studying. I have your brother's clothes to deliver, and about a thousand other things to check over before I retire." She smiled softly at him. "I guess, then, that I'll see you in the morning."

Fili nodded. "Until then, _**irak'amad**_."

With a parting smile, Alana swept out of the room to return to her duties.


	10. King Under The Mountain

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in this post, but I've been kinda busy recently with work and college and stuff. Still, I got this done, and hopefully it lives up to standard. Behold, the long-awaited coronation. I'm actually surprised at how long it took me to get here, but oh well. It's a nice light-hearted one though, so, as always, I hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think! :)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: DAFoxGirl16, DurinsDaughter and ruler of the ice dragons.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Guest(1): PM is getting there. I'm not the only one, apparently, who's having this problem, but there isn't one solution for all of it. I don't really understand the specifics. And I'm sorry, but I'm not doing that. We've been through this.**

 **CrystalVixen93: Thanks, and here ya go! :)**

 **StarAvengerWho: Ah, hello! :) Nice to have you back, and I hope those chapters were up to scratch :)**

 **Tristana702: Hey, she's only human. She has her panic moments... ;P**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Heh, are you really? I had NOOOOOOO idea... ;)**

 **Dreamer4life16: Okay, I get that. I just love sleep too much, so I squeeze all my reading in when ever I have even a really short break. Don't worry, he's not that stupid - just a little greedy, apparently. I wouldn't dare to let anything ruin Thorin's coronation... ;)... Though, I have to agree, Thorin when he's protective IS nice... Maybe I'll squeeze a little of that in somewhere... :P It's fine though, Alana will have her cute moments with her family. I made sure of it. And there'll certainly be drama, though not necessarily of the good kind. I promise, promise, promise, I won't kill Thorin. Gods, I have too many ideas for him and Alana to do that. So relax a little. It's all good here. But yeah... looking forward to your 'mega crazy' review... (nudge nudge wink wink, haha). ;)**

 **Guest(2): Aww, thank you! And yeah, most of the changes in Alana's life just hadn't hit home yet. It can sneak up on you sometimes...**

* * *

 **'Leadership is not about titles, positions or flowcharts. It's about one life influencing another.' ~ John C. Maxwell**

* * *

 **Chapter 10:**

The whole mountain was alive with excited anticipation as the morning of May 17th came around. Alana was up not long after the crack of dawn, making sure everything was in its place in the celebration hall, and checking to make sure the cooks were on time with their cooking. Bombur and Cinna were amongst those chosen to help with this part of the coronation, and when Alana poked her head into the royal kitchens, the two of them looked to be having the time of their lives. Relieved that everything seemed to be going according to plan, Alana rushed back to her room to get ready.

"There you are!" came Dís' voice the moment Alana stepped into her chambers. "I was beginning to think you'd never return! Even the men from Dale showed up before you!"

Alana shook her head, smiling crookedly. "Forgive me for wanting to make sure everything's running on time."

"Everything else doesn't matter if _you're_ not ready in time," the dwarrowdam retorted pointedly. "Come, let's get you changed into your dress."

Deciding that arguing probably wasn't worth the effort, Alana allowed herself to be squeezed into her new dress. Dís tied the golden belt at her waist almost painfully tight, accentuating the natural curves on Alana's body, though they had been hardened and reduced by the amount of muscle she'd had to build up over the years. Alana then quickly fastened her necklace around her throat, leaving it to rest above the curve of her breasts. The neckline of her dress dipped low across her chest, revealing more skin than Alana was used to, but was nonetheless somehow still rather tasteful. The thick material meant the frock weighed more than it looked, though Alana bore the weight easily enough.

Slipping into her shoes, Alana turned to Dís with a smile. "How do I look?"

"Hold on," Dís said with a laugh, "you're not done yet." She ushered Alana over to her vanity and sat her down, immediately getting to work on Alana's hair. The four braids above Alana's ears were pushed in front of her shoulders, along with Thorin's braid, while the rest of her thick hair was pulled back. Dís expertly parted Alana's hair into two sections, leaving the underside of her hair free, while pulling the top half of her hair into four separate lace braids and twisting them into a neat bun at the back of her head. Dís then reached across Alana's body, pulling free some long pieces of gold thread from the top of her vanity (which Alana hadn't noticed up until that point), and then interweaving them with Alana's hair. Dís finished by rearranging her existing braids, before stepping back with a proud smile on her face. "Perfect," she said, as Alana stood up.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, staring at herself in the mirror. She turned to Dís and beamed. "Thank you."

"There's just one more thing," the dwarrowdam murmured, going back over to where her own clothes had been draped over Alana's chair. She rummaged between the many layers of cloth, before grinning and pulling forth a circlet. The circlet was simple, with bands of gold overlapping to create harsh angles, and in the centre was a single, large emerald. Dís smiled, gesturing for Alana to lower her head. Bemused, Alana did so, allowing Dís to place the circlet over her head. The back rested on the curve of the bun that had been tied there, the front in the middle of her forehead.

Alana glanced at herself in the mirror once more, smiling. "It's odd how well blue and gold work together," she murmured. "And the emeralds too. I've never really liked how I look in green, but this is nice." She frowned. "But why am I wearing this?"

"Because," Dís explained patiently, "you are Thorin's betrothed. You are not his wife yet, and you will receive a proper crown or diadem when you marry, but for now you are an honourary Princess of Erebor. As such, you are expected to wear a circlet to show this."

Chuckling wryly, Alana noted, "Your people's traditions are rather confusing."

Dís smirked. "In three weeks, they shall be _your_ people's traditions as well, Alana."

Humming, Alana nodded. "I suppose you are right." She glanced at Dís' clothes, piled as they were on her chair. "Can I help you as well?"

Smiling, Dís nodded, and the two got to work again. Dís' dress was in varying shades of blue and purple, with pale blue shoes. When it came to do her hair, Alana settled for a messy but stylish bun that encompassed all of the dam's hair except a few strands around her forehead, which were pulled loose of the rest deliberately. Instead of using a piece of cloth to tie her hair back, Alana braided a section of Dís' hair and wrapped it around her bun, pinning it in place. Dís hair was unsurprisingly thick, but Alana strangely enjoyed being able to run her fingers through it and play with it. It wasn't something she got to do often, and so now she revelled in this rare treat. Alana then placed a circlet similar to her own on Dís' head, though the dam's was silver in colour, and bearing a beautiful amethyst in its centre. She then pulled on a matching, jewelled necklace.

At long last, the two women were ready. "Come on," Dís muttered. "We ought to go and make sure my sons are ready."

Alana chuckled. "Why wouldn't they be?"

"Those two are ridiculously slow at getting dressed," Dís told her, smiling. "You should have seen them when they were little! They hated being forced into clothing almost as much as they hated taking baths. Honestly, I couldn't count the number of times one of them managed to slip past me and ended up running naked through the halls."

Letting out a laugh, Alana mused, "I can imagine that would be as amusing as it was frustrating."

"Perhaps at first," the dwarrowdam allowed. "It became somewhat less funny after the first few times. Thankfully, they grew out of that stage fairly quickly." Dís glanced up at Alana and grinned. "That's something for you to look forward to, hey, Alana?"

Caught off guard by the attention suddenly being on her, Alana blinked, feeling a distinctive rise of temperature in her cheeks. "Oh, well, I... I suppose...?" She hadn't meant it to trail off as a question, but it did so.

Dís frowned. "Do you not want children, Alana?" she asked, the thought clearly shocking and alarming.

"No, I do," Alana was quick to reassure. "If I had my way, I'd have three, in fact. It's just only recently hit me that it could happen _very_ soon. I'm not sure I'm even ready for children yet."

Dís smiled kindly. "You are," she said simply. Alana looked doubtful still, so she pressed on. "You helped to raise your brother. I know you were old enough for it, and though you would have had your parents to help through some of it, I can tell that you shouldered much of the responsibility. Not to mention the way you behave with _my_ sons - as if they were your own. No, dear, you're most certainly ready to be a mother. But don't forget that, just because you're marrying my brother, doesn't mean the children have to start coming immediately. It took my husband and I over ten years before we decided we wanted children."

Alana smiled sadly. "Time is not so much on our side," she whispered, half hoping that Dís wouldn't hear her.

But she did, and she understood as well. "You know, though I'm sure he would kill me if he ever learned I told you this, I spoke to Thorin about that; asked if he knew of your fears. He confided in me that he shares them. It breaks his heart to know he may not live to see his children grow far beyond their maturity - though he will likely live to see his three hundredth birthday, thanks to his royal blood. Even so, it pains him even more to know that you will be left to care for them on your own." Dís paused, and looked up at her seriously. "But the important thing is he uses that to strengthen him, not bring him down. I know he will make sure he treasures every single moment with you and your children, because he knows they are numbered. You should do the same."

"I know." Alana sighed. "I can't help it, sometimes. That time is so far away, yet it is still too close. An eternity would still be too short a time." She smiled sadly, then inhaled a grounding breath. "Now, we really should go. The ceremony starts in less than half an hour."

Nodding, Dís led the way out of Alana's room and across the hall, knocking on Fili's door. The blonde Prince answered a few seconds later, fully dressed in his red ceremonial outfit, and smiled upon seeing them. " _ **Amad**_ , Alana, you both look beautiful."

Dís smiled warmly. "Oh, you are so much like your father," she noted with fondness, cupping Fili's cheek in her hand, before she brushed past him into his room.

Alana smiled at Fili. "Still feeling okay?" she asked, walking in and then turning back to face him when he shut his door.

Fili nodded. "I'm alright," he stated confidently. "I remember my oaths. I'm ready." He glanced down at his appearance. "Nice choice with the clothes, by the way. They're a lot more comfortable than they look."

Alana chuckled. "Thanks, I guess. How's your brother getting on?"

"I don't know - haven't seen him yet. He said he'd come in here about now, so I guess you'll see for yourself soon enough."

"I'll go and check on him," Dís murmured with pursed lips. "Knowing him, something's gone horribly wrong and he's too busy freaking out about it to ask for help." And with that, she disappeared again.

Blue eyes shining with amusement, Alana glanced over at Fili again, smiling. "You really do look like a Prince, you know," she stated, making Fili blink in mild surprise. "And I'm not just saying that because you're wearing fancy new clothes. I mean it."

Smiling softly, Fili reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. "Thank you, Alana. And you look very Queenly, too, though more so today than normal." He winked at her, and Alana rolled her eyes before pulling him into a hug. Fili was quick to wrap his arms around her, returning it.

The two pulled apart when the door opened, and Dís and Kili walked in, the latter looking somewhat awkward. "I caught him without his breeches," Dís explained, catching Alana's curious look. "Poor boy was mortified."

"You shouldn't be seeing me like that!" Kili protested.

Dís rolled her eyes. "Oh, calm yourself, Kili! I'm your mother - it's nothing I haven't seen before!"

"I'm not a child anymore, _**amad**_!" came the horrified response. "I don't care what you have and haven't seen in the past - that's _not_ something I want you to see _now_."

Fili and Alana were barely holding back laughter at what was unfolding before them, and the moment there was a slight lull in the conversation, they glanced at one another... and broke down. Howling laughs escaped their lips, and they had to cling to each other for support.

That was how Thorin found them a minute later, Dís smiling almost smugly, Kili looking mortified, and Fili and Alana still in fits. He cocked an eyebrow at the sight before him, but decided not to ask.

Instead, he shook his head, and turned to his sister. "I trust you are all ready?"

Dís nodded, smiling. "We are," she answered. "Are you, brother dear?"

Thorin rolled his eyes. "Do you think I would be here if I weren't?"

Chuckling, Dís nodded again. "Fair enough." She turned and cleared her throat loudly, making Alana and Fili final take note of Thorin's arrival. They sobered up fairly quickly, though were both clearly trying to hold back their smiles as they turned back to Kili. He grumbled under his breath, but moved to stand beside his brother.

Alana approached Thorin and carefully adjusted the fur trim of his dark coat. He smirked knowingly at her, and she huffed. "Oh, shut up," she grumbled. "I planned this day, remember? I'm allowed to be a perfectionist."

Thorin let out a rumbling laugh. "I suppose you are," he noted with a crooked grin. "But Balin has requested your presence in the main hall for now, so you shall have to trust that everything will go as planned."

Alana grimaced. "Okay, now I'm nervous."

Thorin chuckled. "It'll be fine, _**badg**_ ** _ûn_** _ **a**_. Now go."

With a parting kiss on his forehead, Alana left, making her way swiftly towards the celebration hall. People were already beginning to gather inside, dressed in their finest clothes, and some of them even bowed to her as she passed - as if it were her coronation. Still, she tilted her head politely in return, and continued heading up to the raised platform bearing the two thrones, where Balin was waiting for her.

"I heard I was required," she said by way of a greeting, placing her hand on Balin's shoulder and giving it a brief squeeze.

Balin chuckled. "You are the King's One," he pointed out. "It would not do for you to show up late to his coronation. Doubly so since it is only by your efforts that all this has been accomplished." He waved a hand, gesturing to the room, full of gleaming tapestries and burning candles, and a thick, blue rug leading from the main doors up to the thrones - along which Thorin and his nephews would later walk. "You have done yourself proud," the old dwarf told her with a smile. "Yourself, and them as well."

Alana smiled gratefully. "Thank you. But there's still time to go - a lot can go wrong very quickly."

Balin scoffed quietly. "You ought to have more confidence in yourself, lassie." He smiled at her sheepish shrug, then glanced behind them. Three dwarves were stood nearby, each bearing a black velvet cushion, on top of which was a crown. Thorin's was in the centre, and Fili and Kili's were either side, shining grandly in the warm, orange light. "You did a good job on those crowns. I heard you were neck-deep in their design."

Alana nodded slowly. "The smith and I designed them together, yes. I must say, I am quite proud of them."

"As you should be." Balin smiled and patted her arm. "Just this once, lass, allow yourself to revel in your achievements. This will be a day to go down in history, and you were central to its planning. Whether your part in it will go remembered or not, here and now, all know of your contributions to this day. So wear that accomplishment with the pride it deserves."

After a brief pause, Alana nodded, and Balin nodded in return, smiling again. The two fell then into a comfortable silence, watching as the people gathered. The emissaries from the other kingdoms stood at the front of the large crowd, though the men and elves were closer to the wall so as not to block the view of the dwarves behind them. The air was charged, everyone buzzing about excitedly or holding their breaths in eager anticipation. Even those (namely Thranduil) who were not so fond of Thorin, nor the dwarves in general, could not help but acknowledge how great a moment in time this was.

As Alana glanced over the crowd, her eyes clapped on Aragorn and Gilraen, standing alongside the elves of Rivendell. Aragorn beamed when their eyes met, waving at her and grinning, and ignoring their mother's quick scolding. Alana returned the grin, and she winked down at him, before returning her gaze forward just as a long, low horn echoed through the air. Thus the ceremony began.

The great doors at the far end of the room opened. There stood Thorin, his back straight and his face firm but proud. At his hip was Orcrist, the sword which the elves of Rivendell had first blessed him to wield, and which had been returned to him during the Battle of the Five Armies. As he strode into the room, Fili and Kili stepped into view behind him. They too walked with confidence and belonging, bearing unusually serious faces. Alana didn't shift her gaze when she became aware of Dís' presence by her side. The people bowed their heads low as Thorin, Fili and Kili passed them, rising only when the three Durins reached the platform, and lowered themselves onto their knees.

Balin stepped forward then. Usually, this part would be said in khuzdul, in the language of their sires, but in the presence of so many who could not understand their language, it had been agreed that westron would be used instead. The dwarf holding Thorin's crown also moved forward, standing beside Balin so the old dwarf could reach easily for it when the time came.

"Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain," he began, "in your veins you bear the royal blood of Durin, and now comes the time where you will take up your duties as King Under the Mountain." He looked down at his friend, and the two exchanged a meaningful glance that only those closest to them could truly begin to understand. Balin's voice echoed through the hall again. "Do you swear to guard this kingdom, to govern it according to our laws and customs?"

"I swear, while this mountain remains under my rule, I will do all in my power to do so." Alana shivered at the sound of Thorin's low tone, the raw power and determination behind his oath.

"Do you swear to show justice and mercy in the execution of your judgements?"

"I swear," came the firm reply.

"Do you swear now to cast aside all selfish ambition, to pledge yourself to the good of this kingdom, and its people, until such a time when your rule is passed on?"

Thorin met Balin's eyes, the storm in his gaze raging fierce, as he declared, "I swear now to commit myself to the people of this kingdom, to its friends and allies, so that it may remain the pride of Durin's folk. I swear to lead this kingdom through times of comfort and convenience, as well through times of chaos and controversy, with the best interests of its people at heart. This is my oath, made under the watchful eye of Mahal, our Maker, who will hold me to my word."

Alana blinked, a dim bell ringing in her head at those words. And when his eyes skipped to her, she knew there was more to his oath than simply reciting traditional vows. No, something had been changed. A shaky breath escaped her lips when she realised he had stolen her words, her words about his ability to rule, and incorporated them into his speech.

Balin smiled down at Thorin, letting some of his professionalism fade away, before turning to his right and picking up the King's crown. "With the people as my witness, I now declare you Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. May your days as ruler of this mighty kingdom be blessed." And with that he placed the crown on Thorin's head, stepping back a moment later. With a grounding inhale of breath, Thorin straightened, stepping onto the raised platform, and then turning to face his people. Balin smiled proudly, then declared, "Long live the King!"

All around the room, the guards and warriors of the dwarves drew their swords, holding them pointing upward in a silent oath to protect the King for as long as they drew breath. Balin's cry was then echoed around the room. "Long live the King!"

Thorin held out a hand for silence, and it quickly fell, everyone's eyes pinned on him. "The kingdom of Erebor was once taken from us by a creature who tried to sink its claws into us, to drag us down. But today, I see before me the pride of Durin's folk - not our wealth, nor this mountain, but rather the people who dwell under its protective walls. Despite the wishes of others, our kind did not fall. We did not fail. Our strength remained, and with this strength we have regained that which is ours. Now come the days where peace will reign, where we shall rebuild that which was lost, so we might never again have what belongs to us stolen from our grasp." The crowd whooped and cheered, but Thorin was not done. "I have sworn to govern this kingdom, to ensure its survival beyond the end of my rule, and so now comes the time where my heirs are given the recognition they deserve."

Fili and Kili had never shifted from their bowed positions on the floor, listening to Thorin take his oaths in silence, watching him with love and pride in their eyes. Now it was their turn, and Alana felt delight swelling in her chest. Beside her, Dís was nearly in tears, and so without so much as glancing her way, Alana gently slipped her hand into the dwarrowdam's, giving it a grounding squeeze. Dís covertly squeezed back, a silent thank you.

"My sister's sons," Thorin declared, approaching Fili and Kili while the two remaining dwarves stepping out, the Princes' crowns gleaming for everyone to see. "Long have you been my heirs in name and in blood, but now you will become such in oath as well. Will you swear to work alongside me, to learn the ways of ruling, so that when the time comes you may bear the weight of the crown without strain?"

The two Princes' spoke as one, their voices echoing through the long hall. "I solemnly swear so to do."

"Do you swear to each be a beacon of hope to our people, so they might in turn give you strength?"

As the Princes once again repeated their oath, Alana almost fainted from shock. For the second time that day, Thorin had drawn from something she had told him. But more than that - he had honoured her father's words, and in doing so had honoured his memory in front of more than just Thorin's people. Alana glanced over at her mother, and saw the shocked expression born of recognition written on her face as well.

"Do you swear to defend this home, with your lives and your hearts, until the end of your days?"

"I solemnly swear so to do."

With a firm nod, Thorin then addressed Fili alone. "Fili, my sister's firstborn, the throne will turn to you when my rule ends. As the first in line, do you swear, as I have, to pledge yourself to the good of this kingdom, to uphold its laws and customs, to execute your judgements with mercy and justice, and to commit yourself to your people, above all else?"

Fili closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling, then answering without even the slightest quiver to his voice. "I swear that the laws of our ancestors will be my guide, through your reign and my own, so that our kingdom and its people will prosper as it always has. I swear to rule over the people with a merciful hand, when your crown becomes mine, and to keep their best interests at heart. This is my oath, made under the watchful eye of Mahal, our Maker, who will hold me to my word."

Thorin let a flicker of a smile appear, as Balin had, before reaching for Kili's crown. "From this day henceforth," he declared, "you shall be known as Kili, Prince of Erebor." And with that, he lowered the crown onto Kili's head. Alana relaxed a little when she became assured the crown fitted him well, coming to rest in the centre of his forehead. Thorin then turned and picked up Fili's crown, and spoke again. "From this day henceforth, you shall be known as Fili, Crown Prince of Erebor." Then Fili's crown was in place, and the two brothers stood up in unison, turning around to face their people.

More cheers filled the air, as, for the first time in over 170 years, a true King of Erebor stood before them, his line secure in his two nephews. Alana was fighting back tears as she applauded them alongside everyone else, feeling so touched to be witnessing this, and so utterly proud of all three of them for bearing this weight on their shoulders. It was a long time coming, but the three of them were finally exactly where they belonged.


	11. Gayad'usrun

**A/N: Hello! Sorry I couldn't update this yesterday, but I had a late work shift and didn't get home until 9pm. After that, I just wanted to go straight to bed, so... I did... Anywho, here's the feast chapter, with some customary dancing :)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: angel9507 and loki winchester. Thanks, guys :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **ro781727: I'm not planning on giving her too much trouble from them, really. It should be mostly clean-sailing.**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Aww, thanks :)**

 **CrystalVixen93: Thanks, and here ya go! :P**

 **Rohirrim Girl 2187: I figured, since the last few chapters have been pretty heavy emotionally for Alana, she could do with some lightness. Glad to hear you liked it!**

 **Guest: Wow, you're thinking as far ahead as I am, and I'm writing this thing. Anywho, glad you liked it :)**

 **LOLIcons10121: Aww, that's really kind of you. Thank you! I'm glad you think this is paying off - it's hard work, but sooooo worth it when I get reviews like yours. So, thanks again! :)**

 **Tristana702: Hehe, glad you thought so. I enjoyed writing that bit... :3**

* * *

 **'Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they're great because of their passion.' ~ Martha Graham**

* * *

 **Chapter 11:**

The hall cleared quickly, people filing out to change into more comfortable clothing, as was instructed of them. The feast was destined to become messy, and everyone knew it. Wearing their best clothes to such an event was not only unwise, but also removed some of the air of celebration from the room. It was incredibly difficult to let loose when wearing your best clothing, Balin had said. Alana personally thought it wouldn't make one lick of difference to the vast majority of the diners, but kept that to herself.

The entirety of Thorin's original company (and their families) congregated in the royal quarters, in the large, communal lounge - the one that was so rarely used it was almost pointless. Alana was glad of it now though, as it was the only room with enough space to fit everyone comfortably. She was cheerfully greeted by each of the dwarves in turn, and was finally introduced to Gloin's wife and son, the former of whom was quiet and cordial, and the latter of whom proved quickly to be almost as witty as Fili and Kili. Bombur's whole family were there, and Alana was introduced to those she had not met before. She was also hounded by Bambur, who clearly remembered her from the single time they had interacted - when he had charged head-first into her legs, on the day the family arrived in Erebor.

When Fili, Kili and Thorin entered together, a round of cheers rose up, and the three were drawn into various hugs, head-bashes and claps on the shoulder. Alana sent up another round of cheers when she shamelessly grabbed Thorin by the lapels of his coat and smashed her lips down on his. The cheers were loud enough to mask Thorin's grunt of surprise, but Alana heard it, and when the two of them parted, she grinned wolfishly down at him. Thorin smirked in return, before grabbing the back of her head and pulling her down for another kiss, much to the amusement of the others.

"Three weeks," Thorin murmured against her lips when they pulled apart again, the rest of the group having moved their attention elsewhere to give the couple as much privacy as could be found in such a crowded space. "Three weeks, and then you're mine."

Alana hummed, doing her best to ignore the shiver that raced down her spine at his tone. "It's an awfully long time, isn't it?"

Thorin huffed. "It's better than it was at first - Balin suggested we wait until August before marrying."

Scrunching up her face, Alana pecked the end of his nose. "Well, I'm glad you managed to push it forward. Three weeks is long enough - I'm not sure I could have waited a full three months!"

Thorin chuckled. "Hmm, I think I know how that feels."

Alana grinned at him, but then her grin softened into a warm, tender smile. "You paraphrased my father," she whispered. "You used _his_ words in front of your entire kingdom." She pressed another sweet kiss to his lips, barely giving him time to respond before pulling back. "Thank you."

Thorin cupped her face in his hands, meeting her eyes seriously. "It was his words, your words, that gave me the strength I needed to carry on when I was at my lowest. How could I not honour such a gift?" Smiling through a sudden veil of tears, Alana wrapped her arms around him, pulling him against her. Thorin's arms rose up to encase her body, and he settled comfortably against her, smiling when she ducked her head to bury her face in his hair. That smile faded when he felt her tears on his skin, followed quickly by a shaky exhale of breath. Thorin's brows furrowed, his heart twinging at the sound of her sorrow. "Alana? **_Atamanel_** , what's wrong?"

"He should have been here," she whispered against his neck, and Thorin felt his arms tightening. "They both should have. Your father, and mine. Both of them should have been here to see this. To see _us_." She released a choked sob, clutching him closer. "I miss him, Thorin. I miss him so much."

"I know," Thorin murmured, his hand rising to bury in her hair, gently soothing her. "I miss my father too. Every day. Even now he is my inspiration. Just as your father, I'm sure, is yours." He tugged her head back, pressing her forehead against his. "But just because you cannot see him does not mean he is not here. Our loved ones never leave us - not really. They stay with us. Right here." He placed his hand over her heart, feeling it pounding against his palm. Alana placed her hand over his, grasping it tight enough that the blood was drawn away from her knuckles, and his fingers started to ache in protest. He didn't mention it. "Let that bring you comfort, knowing that Arathorn is still alive in you, and in your brother. As he will always be."

Alana breathed in a shaky breath, screwed her eyes shut tight, and then relaxed and nodded. "Okay," she whispered, smiling, then opening her eyes again. Something akin to amusement then flickered across her face. "You know, this crown of yours is not very comfortable to lean against."

Thorin let out a low chuckle, shifting his hands to wipe away her tears with his thumbs, before planting another quick peck on her lips. "Are you sure that isn't your own getting in the way?"

Smiling warmly, Alana shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?"

Rolling his eyes fondly at her antics, he stepped back from her, letting his eyes scan up and down the length of her body. "I'm sure you don't want to hear this, but you look very much like a Queen right now, and it suits you. Almost more than your Ranger clothing."

Alana stared at him. "You're right," she said at length. "I didn't want to hear that." She exhaled heavily. "No, I'm kidding. It's still a bit weird though, you know?"

"I do," he murmured, taking her hands and grasping them in his own. "I understand. Turning back from our previous lives was never going to be easily, but I think it's worth it. Hopefully you think so too."

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be here," she pointed out, smiling. "Now, we ought to get a move on. The feast starts soon, and as much as I enjoy seeing you as fancily dressed as you are, I much prefer that blue coat of yours."

Thorin laughed. "That is hardly appropriate for a feast - it is my travel coat!"

Alana shrugged. "I don't care. Even your sister agrees with me that it suits you almost too well."

Thorin glanced over at Dís (who was conversing with Lady Cinna in a far corner of the room), arching an eyebrow, before huffing out another laugh. "Well, who am I to go against the fashion advice of my two best girls?"

Alana stuck her tongue out at him, smirked when he winked at her, and then she turned away to talk to Fili and Kili. She didn't bother to say anything, just walked up behind Fili (Kili was busy laughing with Dwalin), wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, and then smacked a kiss on his temple.

Fili laughed at her actions, tilting his head up to grin at her. "Hello, auntie."

"Hey, Fee," she greeted in return, releasing him and letting him turn to face her properly. "Nicely done out there. You almost had me fooled. Of course, I know you could never _really_ be a proper Prince of Erebor."

Fili snorted, making Alana grin. "Well, we all know propriety was never my strong suit - but at least I can be serious sometimes. And I'm better than Kili."

"That's definitely true," she agreed with a grin, before it became softer. "Seriously, though, I'm proud of you. It's what you've always deserved."

Smiling broadly, Fili's eyes shone up at her. "Thanks, Alana. That means a lot." Then his face took on a teasing expression again. "Now all that's left is for you to join us in royalty."

Alana sighed. "That's still as daunting a thought as ever."

Kili suddenly appeared, wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulders. He had evidently been listening in on their conversation, because he said, "It's not as bad as it seems. Wear some fancy clothes, say a few words, then you're done. Simple. And, so far as I can tell, not a lot changes afterwards."

"It's a bit soon to be saying things like that, don't you think? The ceremony finished less than fifteen minutes ago!"

Kili shrugged. "I did say 'so far as I can tell', did I not?" Grinning, he tapped his head. "I like the crowns, by the way. You did a good job on everything."

"Just don't ask me to plan anything else," she shot back, grinning. "After my wedding, I'm done."

The brothers blinked at her. "Your wedding?"

Alana frowned. "Yes, my wedding." They frowned back, and Alana tilted her head to the side. "Why do you look so confused? What is it?"

"Do women plan their own weddings where you're from?" asked Kili.

"The wedding is planned by the bride and groom together," she explained simply. "Why? Is that not what happens here?"

Fili shook his head. "No. In dwarfish weddings, the planning is done by the female relatives of those getting married - in this case, our mother and yours. The male relatives are in charge of making sure everything physically gets put together correctly. The bride and groom aren't allowed to know what their wedding is going to be like until the day."

Alana stared at them, dumbfounded. "Huh," she not-so-eloquently settled on, and Kili snickered, while Fili just grinned at her. She shook her head. "Well, that'll take some getting used to, but I'm glad, actually."

Kili glanced up at her quizzically. "Why?"

She smiled, a touch of sadness creeping into the corners of her eyes. "I haven't been able to spend much time with Estel recently. And now he's going out hunting with you and... that was always something I planned on teaching him, you know? Now I'll get the chance."

"That's kind of a relief," the younger Prince said, grinning when she mirrored his earlier expression. "Your brother is a very attentive student, I'll give him that, but his heart wasn't in it. Not really. I could tell he wanted you to be there with him."

Alana's countenance softened. "Thank you for looking after him," she murmured, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I think you have your own little brother now." She looked at Fili. "And for you, a second one."

Touched, both of them smiled, and Kili squeezed her hand. "I like to think so," he admitted. He then sighed. "I'm going to miss him when he goes. It's nice to have him around to fill the gaps in my day, and he's at just the right age for this sort of thing. Still with one foot in his childhood, but edging towards his adult years."

Alana groaned. "Oh, don't remind me. Woe betide the day he becomes taller than me. I will never live it down."

Kili snorted. "I remember the day we realised I was taller than Fili - Dwalin took me out for a drink to celebrate."

"I bet he did," Alana said with a laugh, while Fili good-naturedly rolled his eyes. "Well, as long as he's old enough, feel free to do the same with my brother. I'll need something to use as blackmail against him if I don't want him to comment on my height every time we meet."

Kili beamed up at her. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Alana's laughter was the only response he got to that.

* * *

Alana was utterly delighted, upon returning to the celebration hall, to see the large spread of food on the tables. Each table was long enough to seat 40 people, and there were a total of fourteen tables, plus the extra table at the head of the room, for the royal family, and all their guests. The enormity of the room meant that the dancing space in the centre of the floor remained almost completely untouched, only two of the tables drifting into that space. Once the bulk of the meal was over, the chairs would, for the most part, be removed from the room, and the tables crammed together. Smaller snack-like foods would then adorn the tables, to be eaten at the leisure of the guests.

Alana was directed to the head table by Thorin, who - despite a few twisted looks - insisted she sit at his side, in what was traditionally the Queen's chair. Fili sat on Thorin's left, and Kili on Alana's right. Dís was next to Fili, and Balin beside Kili. The rest of the company fanned out after that, and the rest of the table was filled by the guests from the other kingdoms around the world. Due to some still tangible tensions between races, the men sat beside the dwarves, and the elves beside the men. It ended up that Alana faced Lord Elrond and the twins, both of whom delighted in seeing the rather overwhelmed expression on her face about the whole event.

It wasn't long before everyone was cheerfully digging into their food. While the main tables filling the hall were covered in various meats and breads and fish, the top table was filled with everything from meat to salad, in the hopes of making sure everyone present had enough to eat that suited their tastes. Jugs of mead, ale, beer and wine circled the room, and before long the legendary raucousness of the dwarves came to life. Laughter filled the air, bouts of shouting and singing, cheers and hoots, and a few pieces of food were thrown too.

Alana didn't get the chance to eat her meal uninterrupted, being dragged into multiple conversations by the others at the table. She obliged them happily enough, talking at length to Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir chipping in every now and then. She spent a fair amount of time talking to Bard and Bain, and with Dain as well. The half-drunk dwarf Lord introduced her quite heartily to his son, Thorin (she was sure that would become very confusing at some point), who was far more reserved than his father, though still polite. Lord Ecthelion had spent a while talking to her about his father's family, and their legacy. Alana obliged him when he asked curiously about her family's life, explaining to him about the dúnedain and about her own father's role as Chieftain.

She even managed a lengthy conversation with Tauriel, both of them attempting cordiality for the sake of the rest of the guests, and they found that they actually had a lot in common (besides their skill at fighting). Alana had always believed she and Tauriel could be good friends one day, and this only proved it. When Tauriel announced that she had _finally_ told Legolas that he was chasing nothing but a shadow... she felt saddened and happy all at once. She quietly thanked Tauriel for that, much to the _elleth_ 's bafflement, and the two swiftly moved on with their conversations.

It felt like an age before she was able to turn her attention to Thorin ( _her_ Thorin), the two of them falling into easy conversation about everything and nothing, and they both admitted that they had wished Bilbo could have been here for this, and Gandalf too. Alana forgot completely about her food after that, too busy laughing and talking with her friends and family, and she was glad for this celebration. It was one of the few times in recent months that they had all had the chance to be together, and she could tell everyone was making the most of this opportunity. Bofur and Nori - ever steadfast drinking partners - were already neck deep in beer, though were only just beginning to show signs of intoxication.

At long last, the main part of the feast came to an end, and the room was quickly cleared of chairs. For all their faults, dwarves could be incredibly tidy and efficient, and the tables had been moved and laid with fresh food within three minutes. The top table remained where it was, and the remaining chairs were placed in various places throughout the room, to be used by those who desired a brief repose from all the frivolities.

In the corner of the room, musicians took their places, and the first few chords of what would prove to be the first of many up-beat and cheerful songs rung in the air. Thorin glanced at Alana in the corner of his eye, smirking at her when she caught his gaze. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Chuckling at her suspicion, Thorin held out a hand. "Might I have this dance, my Lady?"

"I not a very good dancer," she warned him.

"You'd be hard-pressed to find a dwarf who is," he told her blithely. "Dwarfish dancing is less about technique and skill and more about letting loose and simply enjoying yourself." He wiggled his fingers invitingly, and with a resigned sigh, Alana accepted.

"If I fall over, I'm never going to forgive you for this."

Thorin chuckled. "If you fall over, I think you'll have to give up every right you ever had to the title of 'Ranger'. As it is, I know you're not by nature a clumsy person, so I can say with confidence that you won't." It being the first song to play, there weren't many on the dance floor yet; just a few couples who were spinning and jumping about jovially. " _ **Gayad'usrun, (Dance of joy,)**_ " Thorin murmured in her ear as they watched the other partners, hovering at the edge of the floor. "That is the barest form of dance - and to us, it is the only form that counts. Do not think, do not worry; just listen to the music and enjoy yourself. **_Mahignit ê._** ** _(Promise me.)_** " Alana glanced down at him, frowning. "Promise me you will try to simply have fun, _**atamanel**_."

Smiling, Alana nodded. "I promise." She glanced at the crowd, some of whom had now noticed that she and Thorin were no longer at their table. "We're going to be watched, aren't we?"

Thorin chuckled. "Of course. It is rare for me to dance at such events - let alone so soon in the night. That is not something that has gone unnoticed, I'm sure."

Alana sighed, then cocked an eyebrow at him. "Dance of joy, huh? I think I can manage that."

Thorin grinned broadly at her, pulling her by the hand onto the floor just as the first piece of music came to a flourishing close. The crowd cheered as they noticed Thorin and Alana step onto the floor, and Alana tried not to let her nerves get to her when she realised the other dancers were leaving the floor, so they had it to themselves. "You're not going to back out, are you?" Thorin teased, smirking at her knowingly when her eyes flashed.

"Not on your life," she bit back. "And just for that, I'm not going to apologise if I step on your toes."

Thorin guffawed, a deep-bellied noise that echoed around the whole room. Those who knew even a little bit about Thorin (so nearly everyone) knew that making him laugh so heartily was a rare treat, and as Thorin and Alana stood in the middle of the floor, many of those watching had a new appreciation for the human woman who had claimed their King's heart. "Just think of it like a battle," Thorin murmured to her softly, sensing she was still a little nervous. "Imagine there is an invisible army fighting against us, and with no weapons, we must ensure we do not get hit, and bring them down."

Alana blinked at him, mouth gaping slightly, before she snapped it shut. "You know, that actually helps."

With a quick wink, Thorin grasped her hand more tightly in his, and then the music began. At first it was simple. The two circled one another, step after step, until Thorin lunged froward. Alana laughed and skirted back, then twirled around him, using his advice and imagining a small army of armed orcs. The two spun and circled, and moving fast enough that they almost were going too fast for the music. It was strange, she mused as Thorin grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off her feet, spinning her around. The difference in their heights made the whole thing rather amusing, and yet at the same time it just... _worked._ They'd always been able to fight well together, like they'd been training to do so their whole lives, and suddenly this was shown in their dancing.

By the time the music came to close, both of them were breathing heavily and beaming at one another, and Alana jumped when the dwarves around them cheered and applauded, having forgotten they had an audience. Alana laughed and curtseyed when Thorin bowed to her, still smiling, and he began to lead her off. Their progress was halted, however, by the figure that all but bowled her over.

Alana laughed again, smiling down at her brother as he clung to her. He grinned at her. "My turn!" he declared determinedly, and with a shared glance with Thorin, the King tilted his head to the side and walked back to the top table, while Alana grabbed Aragorn's hands and led him back onto the floor. The next song had started, and the floor now had a dozen other dancers, so Alana made sure they didn't get in the way of anyone else. Aragorn's dancing was hilarious, with no rhyme or reason to it, but Alana did her best to keep up with him, letting him lead her blindly across the floor. Those watching were also trying to hold back laughter at the sight of it, and the pure glee that radiated off her softened more than one heart amongst the crowd.

At the end Alana was breathless from her laughter, though Aragorn seemed oblivious to the fact it was aimed at him. He rather adorably reached up at the end of the dance, wrapping his arms around Alana's neck and then carefully planting a kiss on her cheek. Alana smiled down at him, mirroring the action, before urging him to go back to their mother. He scampered away, giving Alana the chance to return to her seat.

"That was some interesting dancing over there," Kili teased, and Alana glared at him, though there was no real force behind it.

"I'd like to see you do better with him," she retorted, before turning to Lord Elrond's son. "You two are in charge of teaching him how to dance," she instructed, making them both blink owlishly at her. "I won't have him growing up and being unable to dance with his wife."

"You said not ten minutes ago that _you_ couldn't dance all that well," Thorin pointed out, smirking.

Alana shrugged. "I didn't have an older sibling," she pointed out, grinning. "And besides, what's the point in making mistakes if you can't learn from them?" She turned back to the twins. "So?"

Elladan chuckled, but nodded. "We'll do as you ask, my Lady."

"But you owe us," Elrohir added cheekily, making Alana roll her eyes.

Whatever she was planning on saying next remained unknown, because before she could speak, there was a commotion from in front of the door.


	12. Necessary Change

**A/N: I know, I know, it's been a while and I am SO sorry about that - things have gotten busier for me recently, since I work in a tech store and obviously it's Black Friday tomorrow and basically everything's just a bit chaotic. I haven't been able to log in to FF pretty much since I updated. BUT, I'm here now, and hopefully, after this weekend and next week, updates should be coming along more regularly now. Bear with me until then, if you can. Anyways, here's chapter 12, so let me know what you think! :)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: Pixelized Sailor, jodie. u. e, HalfFae, Megankittypooka and Luckygirl1013.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Tristana702: I loved the romanticism behind the dance, especially since it's not something Thorin and Alana have the chance to experience very often. I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it, though :)**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Gandalf and Bilbo WOULD be cool, but when you consider the timelines, Bilbo would have had to go home and then leave again almost immediately to make it back to Erebor in time for the ceremony, so I'm going to go ahead and tell you it's not that... However... your comment on the wedding has prompted me to tell you that there is a nice little surprise in store for that particular bit... ;)**

 **Megankittypooka: I do know that some people don't like the notes, but I personally find them quite interesting to read in other people's work, so that's why I write them. Still, I'm glad you're enjoying it, and hopefully I can maintain the standard...! :)**

* * *

 **'The place of true healing is a fierce place. It's a giant place. It's a place of monstrous beauty and endless dark and glimmering light.' ~ Cheryl Strayed**

* * *

 **Chapter 12:**

Thorin's head snapped up the moment panicked cries started sounding from across the hall, and he saw a large crowd surrounding... something. He was on his feet in the blink of an eye, and was unsurprised that Alana was already heading towards the incident - whatever it turned out to be.

Alana moved with such purpose that the crowd parted itself around her, no one daring to risk getting in her way. Her face was set hard, eyes bright with determination and concern. Thorin followed behind her, while most of the crowd lingered, curious to what was happening but not intending to get involved - part of him was grateful for that, knowing too many people crowding around the space would make things harder to calm down should this prove to be serious.

Thorin reached the scene as Alana all but dived to her knees. She turned out to be kneeling beside a dwarrowdam - the dam was young, with thick, amber hair and tanned skin, and her chin had a hint of hair growing on it, along with light sideburns. She was also unconscious. Alana was quick to slip into the mindset of a healer, placing her finger's against the dam's pulse point and hovering for a few seconds. Then she lowered her head, listening to the dam's breathing.

Alana frowned, looking concerned, then glanced around her. "Does anyone here know her?" she asked.

"She's my daughter," a woman called out, bearing the same hair colour as the girl. She was hovering over her, looking fearful and lost, not knowing what to do. "What happened?"

"Does your daughter have any allergies?" Alana asked, her voice strict and firm.

The older dwarrowdam flailed for a moment, then nodded. "Y-Yes, she does. She can't eat salmon."

Alana nodded, turning to Thorin. "Get Oin down to the healing house," she instructed him. "Tell him to bring rhodiola leaves and yellow adallia. And tell him to be quick!"

Thorin nodded, turning and doing as ordered without a moment of hesitation. He told Oin as quickly as he physically could, and the old healer's eyes widened upon hearing the herbs' names. He was gone in a flash, after Alana, who had picked up the young dwarrowdam and left the celebration hall with the dam's mother by her side. There was a lull in the activity in the room, no one really sure what to do next.

Thorin turned to Fili and murmured in his ear, "Keep them calm. If possible, make them forget about this." Fili met his uncle's eyes and nodded, heading towards his brother and repeating Thorin's instructions in his ear. Thorin turned then to Lord Elrond, who, if he was surprised by the action, didn't show any sign of it. "While I have full confidence in Alana and Oin's abilities as healers, your input, I'm sure, would be appreciated. Will you help?"

Elrond nodded, his expression grim. "You need only lead the way."

With a sharp nod, Thorin left the hall out of a side door, Elrond following in his wake. The two were silent as they wandered through the empty hallways, heading swiftly for the healing house. They knew they were approaching their destination before they got there - Oin and Alana's frantic voices could be heard echoing through the corridors, the dam's mother wailing in terror at her daughter's plight.

"Alana asked the woman's mother about allergies," Thorin informed the elf Lord as they walked into the sight of the healing house. "I suspect the problem could be a result of a severe allergic reaction."

Elrond frowned. "Then that dwarrowdam is in serious danger," he noted, before picking up his pace. The two of them practically flew into the healing room, assessing the scene before them in a fraction of a second. Alana was by the dam's side, tilting her head back in an attempt to ease her breathing. Oin was by the fire, a mug of water saturated with green and yellow leaves in hand as he raced back to the dam's side. Alana barely glanced up to take note of Elrond and Thorin's entrance, busy watching Oin approach her and then pour the herb-filled water down the dwarrowdam's throat, making sure she was swallowing.

With an air of frantic impatience, Alana grabbed the soaked leaves from Oin's hands, waving them in front of the young woman's nose. Almost instantly her airways seemed to clear slightly, and her body relaxed.

Despite this sign of improvement, Alana still frowned in worry and concern, placing one hand on the woman's forehead, while the other went back to press against her throat. There was a pause as everyone waited for the verdict. Alana exhaled heavily. "Her temperature's dropped, and her heart rate is slowing down," she told them, looking particularly at the dwarrowdam's mother. "As long as nothing changes in the next few hours, she should be absolutely fine."

The dam's mother breathed out a sigh of relief, and Lord Elrond smiled proudly at Alana. "It seems I wasn't needed," he murmured, though he didn't sound too upset by this. " _ _Agóreg vê, pinig._ (You did well, little one)_."

Chuckling in exhaustion, Alana shrugged modestly. "After healing a wound laced with morgul poison, I found myself somewhat more confident in my healing abilities. Not to mention my own experience with allergies; that certainly helps."

Elrond's eyebrows rose. "Morgul poison?" he repeated, astounded. "When?"

"Last September," she said, her eyes darting to Thorin for a moment. "Thorin's nephew, Kili, was shot by a morgul shaft not long before our arrival in Laketown."

Elrond frowned. "This is ill news," he murmured. He blinked, then gave a half-smile. "Still, there are more suitable times for such dark thoughts. You've done yourself proud, Alana."

Alana smiled. "Thank you, my Lord. I'm sorry to have dragged you from the festivities."

Elrond chuckled. "It was no trouble, my dear." He glanced at Thorin and the dam's mother, who had dried tear tracks on her face. "My Lady, my Lord," he acknowledged respectfully, before spinning on his heel and leaving them, the door falling quietly shut in his wake.

Alana blew out a long breath, glancing down at her patient. She frowned, moved to the shelves across the room and picked up a rag, before dipping it in water. Everyone was silent as they watched her return to the young dam's side, draping the wet cloth over her forehead. Then she turned to face the dam's mother. "What is your name, my Lady?" she asked kindly.

The woman blinked, clearly still a little shell-shocked. "It's, um..." She sighed. "Forgive me. My name is Tamalyn." She gave a wobbly curtsey. "At your service, my Queen."

Alana waved her off instantly. "Just Alana is fine, Lady Tamalyn. And your daughter's name?"

"Makaylen," came the shaky answer.

Alana nodded. "Tamalyn, your daughter experienced a rather violent allergic reaction. Now, the herbs Oin and I have given her will hopefully help her body fight through this - they'll help her calm and relax enough that her body can tackle the problem without causing further stress. Once Makaylen wakes up, she'll probably feel weak and maybe a little nauseous for a few days. With your permission, I'd like to keep her here for as long as it takes for her to regain her full strength."

"Y-Yes. Yes, of course," Tamalyn nodded, taking a deep breath to calm her frazzled nerves. "Thank you, Lady Alana. For all you've done."

Alana smiled softly. "It was nothing," she assured the dam. She glanced at Thorin. "You ought to get back to the hall," she told him. "They'll be missing you."

Thorin was admittedly hesitant. "Are you sure?" he asked, knowing in such an environment there was not much help he could offer, but he would still always prefer to be with her.

Still smiling, Alana nodded. "Everything's fine now," she promised. "I'll stay here with Tamalyn and Makaylen. You go back and make sure things haven't gone to chaos up there."

Thorin grunted. "If Fili and Kili did their jobs right, it should be like it never happened."

"Well," Alana murmured, a note of wry amusement in her voice, "there was that time with the ponies..."

Exhaling a drawn-out sigh, Thorin nodded. "Find me if you need anything," he instructed, and after receiving a final nod from Alana, he turned and made his way back to the celebration hall.

The sight that greeted him was... unexpected, to say the least. It was as if the whole purpose of the event had changed. The musicians had stopped playing, and the food lay on the tables, almost completely forgotten. The dance floor was full of people - men, elves and dwarves alike - who were utterly silent as they listened to Fili and Kili talk. Thorin realised quickly that they were describing the incident with the morgul arrow to the crowds, about how Alana had healed Kili from an almost unhealable wound. Thorin listened in bemusement, recognising that, while his nephews had successfully managed to keep everything calm, they had not done so in quite the way he had anticipated - or meant for them to. Still, based on the enthralled expressions on the vast majority of the faces around him, he decided not to intervene. If this got Alana one step closer to being loved by her people, then he wasn't going to fight it.

* * *

"You don't have to stay here, Lady Alana," Tamalyn mumbled, sat on a chair beside her daughter's bed, while Alana hovered nearby, checking over blanket, herb and bandage stores to keep herself busy. "You can go back to the celebration, like Master Oin."

Smiling, Alana paused in her work and glanced back at the dwarrowdam, allowing herself the chance to look her over properly. Her auburn hair was held back by a single, simple hair pin, and there were two braids with beads in her hair. Everything else fell loose around her shoulders, down to the base of her spine. The dam's eyes were a warm hazel, with a slim nose and plump lips, and a fine dusting of hair across the line of her jaw. Alana thought the dam was quite striking, though she wasn't sure how the rest of dwarven society would see her - Tamalyn was much slimmer and straighter than many other dams, with less hair on her face.

Alana made her way back to the older woman and knelt in front of her. "For as long as she is not on her feet, I will make sure that your daughter is well looked after. And I am more than happy to be here in person to ensure that." Tamalyn showed a grateful smile, though her eyes still looked troubled. Alana frowned. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Sighing, Tamalyn averted her gaze and bit her lip, before admitting her fears. "Makaylen used to have reactions all the time," she whispered. "But this was so much worse. She's never been unconscious before. I'm scared, my Lady. We can barely afford to keep ourselves fed - I can't afford the medicine to keep her healthy."

Alana placed a hand on Tamalyn's cheek, and the dwarrowdam flinched back at first, eyes wide in surprise at the action. "You will not have to pay a coin, Lady Tamalyn. That I can promise you. And if you'd like, I can show you some herbs to give her that grow almost everywhere."

Blinking owlishly, Tamalyn stuttered, "W-Why would you...? You would do that?"

Alana frowned. "Well, of course. Why wouldn't I?"

Tamalyn shook her head. "Well, because... Because we are common, my Lady. Less than that. We barely scrape by from day to day, and after my husband died in the war, I..." She sighed. "I have no job, my Lady. Nothing to keep us afloat. My husband's money will not last much longer. We will be out on the streets before long." She shook her head. "I don't know why someone like you would bother with the likes of me and my daughter."

Alana's face hardened. "Tamalyn," she began seriously, and the dam's tearful, tired eyes met hers. "I don't care if you're the poorest of the poor or the richest woman alive - you are in need of help, and that's all I care about. I am terribly sorry for your loss, and the situation it has put you in, but you cannot allow that to bring you down." She gently wiped away a tear from Tamalyn's eye. She hummed thoughtfully, glancing around. "You know, I'm sure Oin wouldn't mind having another pair of hands to help around here. If you'd like, I can talk to him about training you as a healer. It isn't the best paying job, but... it's a start."

Tamalyn blinked frantically, her tears coming faster. "You...? What...? Are y-you sure, my Lady?"

Alana chuckled. "Of course I am. You have a good heart, Tamalyn, and I know I will not regret this. If you learn this, you will have the skills to ensure your daughter has the correct care she needs, and you will have a stable position here."

"I- I don't know what to say," she admitted. "Except... well, thank you. Thank you so much!"

The Ranger let out a surprised noise when Tamalyn lurched forward, wrapping her arms around Alana's neck and sobbing into her shoulders. Alana carefully brought her hands up, rubbing the dam's back soothingly, silently accepting the dam's murmurs of gratitude and feeling her heart warm with the knowledge that she might have just changed someone's life for the better. She gently pushed Tamalyn back after a moment, and smiled warmly. "Now," she said with a firm voice, "let's get started."

"Wha-? Now?" Tamalyn squeaked.

Alana shrugged. "Well, why not now? The sooner the better, am I right?"

Tamalyn nodded eagerly. "Yes. Yes, of course. Of course!"

Grinning, Alana led Tamalyn over to the shelves and began her first lesson, the dwarrowdam listening and watching and learning with eagerness, and a gleam of hope in her eyes.

* * *

Thorin returned to the healing house with Fili and Kili at his side, having left Balin to keep an eye on the feast in the hall. It was almost midnight now, and the three of them all wished to retire for the night. They agreed to visit the healing house to check on Alana and the two dwarrowdams, though when they arrived they came across a scene that they weren't expecting.

Sat facing one another on the floor were Alana and Tamalyn, a large, thick tome open between them, along with a variety of plants and flowers. Both women paused and looked up upon hearing the door open, but while Alana beamed at them and jumped to her feet, Tamalyn blushed slightly and averted her gaze back down to the ground.

"Did you get bored of all the revelry?" Alana asked, making her way over to them. She kissed Thorin briefly, and hugged both her nephews with a wide smile adorning her face.

"We got tired," Fili admitted. "It's been a long day, and since none of us have drunk that much, we figured it was about time we went back to our rooms and slept."

Humming thoughtfully, Alana nodded. "Yes, I'd imagine it's quite late."

"How is she?" Thorin asked, gesturing to the young dwarrowdam still lying prone on the bed. Her face was less flushed now, with no visible signs of clammy skin, and the rag had been removed from her forehead. Her breathing was deep and even, and she looked to be simply sleeping.

"She's doing better," Alana reported with a smile. "As far as I can tell, the worst is over, and she should be waking up any minute now."

"And what's all this about?" Fili asked, gesturing to the floor.

Alana shrugged. "I'm teaching Lady Tamalyn about certain herbs that could help. Particular plants that raise the blood pressure, produce adrenaline... things like that." She smiled at the dwarrowdam, who was still rather shyly avoiding everyone's gazes. "She's a fast learner."

Thorin felt himself smiling softly at the obvious pride in Alana's voice, and glanced at the older dam. He paused for a moment, and then walked over to her. Tamalyn looked up when she saw his shoes, her wide eyes meeting his. He glanced around at the floor, and then back at Tamalyn. "She's not making you uncomfortable, is she?" he asked her, a teasing edge to his tone that was clearly aimed at his future wife. "I know Alana can be a little over-eager at times."

"Oh, thanks," Alana grumbled, moving over to check Makaylen again. "Well, at least I'm not perpetually grumpy. I swear you're trying to scare people off with that scowl you wear most of the time. I'm pretty sure Bilbo was terrified of you at first."

Thorin grinned crookedly. "I have _no_ idea what you're talking about, _**atamanel**_." Alana huffed, and Thorin laughed quietly to himself, before turning back to Tamalyn. The dam's eyes had stopped bulging from her skull, and she was instead wearing a pensive expression. "Are you alright, my Lady?"

Startled, Tamalyn jumped, then nodded quickly. "Yes, I'm quite fine, thank you. I just... didn't expect myself to be in this position tonight. Or ever, for that matter. I'm... a little intimidated. I mean, you're royalty. All of you. And I'm just... me."

"You shouldn't be intimidated," Fili stated with a kind smile. "We're still people. All we want to do is help."

Alana chuckled, glancing pointedly at Tamalyn. "See? I told you."

Tamalyn laughed hesitantly. "I know you did. This is all just so surreal. I can't quite wrap my head around it."

"I'm sure that many stranger things have happened," Thorin stated, not unkindly.

"Oh, here we go!" Alana cheered, drawing everyone's eyes to her. "I think she's waking up."

Tamalyn was on her feet and at her daughter's side in a flash, grasping her hand. The dwarrowdam stirred and let out a weak groan, and then slowly opened her eyes. Alana found herself smiling down at two pools of deep brown, and Makaylen stared back in confusion.

" _ **Amad**_?" she croaked.

"I'm here, Kayla. You're okay."

"What happened?"

Tamalyn looked up at Alana, diverting the question to her. "You had an allergic reaction during the meal," she explained, drawing Makaylen's eyes her way. "You collapsed by the door. You're out of danger now, but you'll be feeling a little wobbly for the next few days, and I'd like to keep you here until you regain your full strength."

Makaylen blinked, then frowned. "Lady... Alana?"

Alana chuckled. "That's me," she confirmed.

Makaylen glanced over at her mother. "Why?"

"Alana was the one to bring you here and heal you," Tamalyn explained, pushing a stray lock of hair out of Makaylen's face. "Her and Master Oin. They saved your life."

Makaylen nodded slowly, then turned back to Alana. "Thank you, my Lady."

Alana smiled. "It was my pleasure." She glanced at the others, locking the peculiar expression on the unusually silent Kili away in her mind to return to later, and then turned back to Makaylen. "Now, since it's late, and you've had quite the ordeal, I recommend you try to get some more rest. If nothing else, it'll give your body the chance to start recovering more quickly." She glanced up at Tamalyn. "I assume you'll be staying...?" Tamalyn nodded firmly, no sign of doubt of hesitation on her face. Alana nodded in return. "Would you like me to stay with you?"

"No, that's alright," Tamalyn murmured. "You've done more than enough."

Alana nodded again. "Then I shall leave you two in peace, and I'll be back in the morning. Try to rest. Both of you." She gave Tamalyn a pointed look, before straightening. She took the hand Thorin offered to her, and the two of them left with Fili and Kili trailing behind them.

* * *

Alana paused outside her door, glancing back at Kili and Fili as they continued further up the hallway, towards their own room. "Kili," she called, and both dwarves turned around curiously. "Could I speak with you for a moment?"

Kili blinked, frowned, then glanced at his brother. Fili shrugged. "Sure," the younger Prince answered at last, moving back towards Alana, who gestured for him to head into her room.

She smiled at Thorin and Fili, said a brief goodnight, and then disappeared into her chambers, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against the door, eyeing Kili closely as he stared back at her, waiting with an air of impatience. "What was all that about?" she asked at last.

Kili frowned again. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know what," she murmured, rolling her eyes. She pushed away from the door, heading towards her long sofa, where she promptly settled. She glanced up to find he was in the same spot, looking utterly lost. "Sit," she instructed, patting the seat next to her. Kili did so, still confused. "Now," she began, her voice less stern and far softer, and Kili relaxed slightly. "What happened in there?"

"Alana, what are you talking about?"

"Makaylen," she stated, and at his twisted face, she added, "The dwarrowdam who collapsed."

Realisation spread over his features, followed by a small flush. "Nothing _happened_ , as such," he admitted, frowning down at his lap and unwilling to meet her eyes. "But I just... was surprised."

"By what?"

"She looked so strong," he mumbled, frowning further. "Even when she was unconscious. When she woke, I know she wasn't physically very strong at the time, but she just... looked it. Like she could take on the world. It caught me off guard."

Alana hummed thoughtfully, thinking back at the young dwarrowdam. "Yes, I suppose she did. And she recovered incredibly quickly - perhaps she doesn't merely _look_ strong." Alana smiled over at him, though his gaze was still on his knees, so he didn't notice when it slipped. "Kili, what's wrong?"

He exhaled heavily, glancing at her in the corner of his eyes, and then winced. "I don't want this, Alana," he confessed quietly. "I'm proud of my family, I am, and I love them all dearly, but I don't want to be a Prince. I don't want the responsibility. I don't want the expectation. I want to be who I used to be - I want my old life, with Fili and Thorin beside me, unburdened by all this." He sighed. "I know I can't have it back, and I've made peace with that, but... I miss it already."

"So do I," Alana murmured, following his gaze to the floor. "I miss being able to roam in the wild. I miss going where I want, doing what I please. I've already mourned the loss of the life I was going to have with my brother. We all have to make sacrifices, Kee."

"I didn't choose this," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. "This life was forced upon me. And I accept that this is who I am, who I was meant to be, but sometimes it's a bit too much, you know? I don't see my brother as much anymore because he's always busy doing something for Thorin. I can't go out with him, and I haven't spent a morning hunting with you for weeks." He shook his head sadly. "That woman in the healing house - she was intimidated by us because we're royalty. But that's the thing - we always were. No one used to care about that. But now we've got Erebor back, got these fancy crowns... It's just hit me so hard that my old life is _gone._ And I'm never getting it back."

Alana let out a noise in the back of her throat, and she tenderly wrapped her arms around Kili. He buried his face in her shoulder, holding her tight, and released a shuddering breath. In all that time, he never looked at her face. "You listen to me," she murmured softly, placing her cheek on the top of his head. "I know things are different now. For all of us. And believe me, I don't like how some things have changed, either. I know I chose this, I know I had more choice than you did, but that doesn't make it any less hard sometimes. Sometimes it's worse. I _chose_ to leave my people behind, to move here, where I won't be able to see my baby brother anymore. It was the most selfish thing I've ever done, and sometimes I hate myself for it. It's not easy." She pushed him back, pressing his forehead against hers. "But we can get through this. It's only hard because it's not what we're used to. Once you get past the transition stage, you'll begin to notice all the things you couldn't do before, or couldn't have. All the good things about this will be before your eyes, and you'll wonder how you ever managed to miss it." She placed a kiss on his forehead. "I know this, because I've been through it. When my father died, I was forced to take over the burdens of his people - our people. It was so hard at first, and I didn't want all that responsibility. I _hated_ it. But then I got used to it, and then I fell in love with it. One day, you will too."

Kili exhaled, closing his eyes. "I know," he murmured. "I know I will. I just miss you all. We barely see each other anymore."

"Well," she mused, making Kili open his eyes again with curiosity in his gaze, "I no longer have a coronation to plan. And since I've been informed I won't be planning my wedding, I've got three weeks of freedom. We can go out into the woods together, do some hunting, like we used to."

Kili grinned. "As long as we bring your brother," he said, pulling back, now noticeably happier. "I want him to come too."

Alana chuckled. "Well, of course. I have to train him to hunt, and tell him that everything he's been taught by you so far is probably wrong."

Kili let out a sound of insult, then launched himself at her. Alana yelped, not expecting the move, and in her lack of defence she was pushed off the chair, Kili landing heavily on top of her. There was a brief pause, before both of them began laughing. Neither of them bothered to move from their positions, uncomfortable or peculiar as they were, but simply enjoyed the moment.

At length, once they had calmed, Kili glanced up at her, smiling warmly. "I wish I had met you sooner, Alana," he admitted. "I think we've needed you in our lives for a long time."

Alana returned the smile. "I wish I'd met you sooner, too. But we're here now, and I don't regret anything that's happened. Maybe it's best that we met when we did."

Nodding, Kili finally sat up, allowing Alana to do the same. He eyed her for a moment, then chuckled. "You know, I think you're right."

"About what?"

"Not all change is so bad." He grinned at her. "A lot changed when you came along. But I'm glad it did. Maybe I'll be glad of the fact I'm a Prince in the future, too."

Alana nodded, tapping the end of his nose. "I'm sure you will be. Now, we should get some sleep. We've got an early start tomorrow."

Kili grinned. "You know that just means you'll have to wake me up again, right?"

"Probably," she agreed with a resigned sigh. "Still, one can hope."

Laughing, Kili jumped to his feet, offering her a hand up and pulling her after him when she accepted it. "Goodnight, _**irak'amad**_."

"Goodnight, Kee."


	13. Hunting Trip

**A/N: Hi, guys. Sorry for another late one, but my Black Friday weekend was ridiculously busy, so hopefully you'll forgive me for making you wait. Bit of fluff in this one, which I think we've been sorely missing recently. Hope you enjoy! :)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: Sarah March, peanut0210, Kalyen9391, SilverLark25, Sandra9417 and Arjetlam Bjartskular.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **ro781727: Doesn't mean she's off the hook just yet, though... ;)**

 **CrystalVixen93: Thanks, and here ya go :P**

 **StarAvengerWho: Aww, thank you! That means a lot, and it's always a real confidence booster to get a response like yours, too. So thank you again!**

 **Tristana702: Not going to lie, I've had the wedding night chapter written for a while now, but I haven't decided yet if I'm going to post it (either on this fic or separately). We'll see, I guess. As for the wedding, you've got a few chapters left before that one... ;)**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Your idea has put new thoughts into my head, though. I might have to borrow that one at a later time. We'll see. Glad you liked it :D**

* * *

 **'An action, to have moral worth, must be done from duty.' ~ Immanuel Kant**

* * *

 **Chapter 13:**

"Come on! Come on! Come on!"

Alana let out a laugh as Aragorn pulled her and Kili by the hands out of the main gate, all three of them wearing quivers full of arrows and their own bows. Aragorn had been utterly delighted to see the two of them standing at the door, wearing their hunting gear. He'd grabbed his own things so quickly that he was done by the time Gilraen appeared to see what all the fuss was about, still wiping the sleep from her eyes.

Amused looks were sent their way as the people of Erebor watched their Prince and future Queen being dragged bodily from the mountain by a young boy, though there were far fewer people out here than usual - with the celebration feast of the coronation still on-going, many were still making the most of the free ale and food.

They went into the closest forest, just to the west of Dale, which boasted bright trees and plenty of wildlife to hunt. Aragorn was practically skipping in his excitement, though Alana was surprised that, almost the second he walked past the line of the first trees, he became serious, his eagerness fading away into an almost eerie calm.

"Okay, Estel; let's see what Kili's taught you so far."

Aragorn nodded at her, readjusting his hold on his bow, before glancing around them. Alana raised an eyebrow as his eyes scanned over the trees and undergrowth, but mostly his eyes remained downward, eyeing the ground closely. After a moment he began to move forward, eyes now cemented on the forest floor, and Alana noticed a second later that he was following a tiny set of tracks. She and Kili followed him silently as he moved through the trees, glancing up every now and then to examine his surroundings, but ultimately returning his gaze to his feet.

Suddenly he glanced up again and beamed. "There! Look, Alana! A rabbit!"

There was indeed a rabbit in front of them, but the moment Aragorn raised his voice, it raced away, disappearing before the young boy could even finish talking. Alana chuckled when Aragorn pouted. "You did well, Estel," she told him with a crooked, amused grin. "Though perhaps you ought to refrain from shouting at the top of your lungs in future. You could scare the whole forest with a voice like that."

Aragorn petulantly stuck his tongue out at her. "Yeah, I know, Kili told me that before," he grumbled. He sighed. "I can't help it. This is just so amazing! I'm out here, with you, on an adventure!"

Smiling softly, Alana wrapped her arms around his shoulders and placed a kiss on the top of his head. "I'm excited about this too, _muindor_. But you have to keep a calm head on your shoulders, otherwise you'll never be able to progress past the first stage."

Aragorn sighed, but nodded. "I know. Sorry."

"That's alright - believe me, I was exactly the same when I first started. You have to learn to be absolutely silent, and very patient. You got lucky today, with that rabbit. It often takes far longer to find a trail. You just have to make sure you don't give up, okay?"

Nodding again, Aragorn muttered, "I won't."

Kissing his head again, Alana let him go, then turned to Kili. "I must admit," she said teasingly, "your teaching skills are clearly far better than I had thought."

Kili rolled his eyes. "Thanks," he grumbled sarcastically. "It's nice to know you have such faith in my abilities."

Alana shrugged. "What counts is my views have changed." She clapped him on the shoulder, winking. "Maybe you should try to do it more."

Kili blinked. "Do what more? Teach?"

"Well, why not? The evidence suggests you've got a flair for it, and it'll be something to get you away from your Princely duties for a while, if you can convince Thorin and your mother to let you do it."

Blinking again, Kili stared at her for a while as if she had grown another head, before his expression became more thoughtful. Alana chuckled when she felt a hand tugging her sleeve impatiently. "Come on, Alana! Let's go!"

"Alright, alright," she murmured, ruffling the hair on Aragorn's head and then ignoring his grumbling as he tried to fix the mess she'd made. "Let's go, then."

* * *

"You want me to do what?"

"Come on, brother, it'll be good for you! For both of you! You haven't had the chance to do something like this in months."

Thorin eyed his sister with incredulity, wondering exactly when she'd gone and lost her mind. "You are aware of the duties we both have within the mountain, yes?"

Dís shrugged. "Consider it some additional hands-on training for Fili. Balin will make sure everything is kept in order." She took a step forward. "Don't deny you want to do it. I've seen how much you two miss each other. Whenever you're together it's like you don't want to be parted ever again. Take some time away from the mountain, away from your duties. It's okay to enjoy some time with your future wife."

Exhaling heavily, Thorin sat down on the chair by the fire. He'd been in the royal library, looking through some old documents, when Dís had barged in. Now he found himself glad to have a comfortable chair close at hand. "I won't deny that it sounds appealing," he grumbled. "But things are not so simple for us anymore."

"So make them simple," Dís muttered with a shrug, moving to sit opposite him. "You're the King, and you're about to get married. I'm sure no one will fault you for taking a day or two off to spend some quality time with your One."

"Dís," he stated calmly, slowly, knowing this would be a long conversation unless he got his point across clearly enough, "I was crowned _yesterday_. I cannot simply disappear from the mountain within a week of my coronation!"

Heaving an exaggerated sigh, Dís shot back, "Why not?!"

"Because I refuse to be seen as a King who would abandon his kingdom for selfish reasons," he snapped in return, feeling some of his exhaustion creeping up on him. Though he fought hard to hide it, the pressure of the crown and his daily workload were beginning to take their toll on him. He was used to the physical challenges of the wild, used to having aching limbs and tired bones. This was a different kind of exhaustion, one which originated in his mind. His tasks were not strenuous, but they seemed often to be never-ending. And he truly did miss the days wondering through forests and along pathways out in the wide world. He envied Alana in that way; she had retained at least a little of her freedom, venturing out into the forest with Kili (and now her brother, too) in the mornings. Thorin sighed again, meeting his sister's probing eyes. "I cannot possibly express in words how much I long to go out there again, to take Alana with me so that we might enjoy our freedom, even if only for a moment. But now is not the time for that. It is too soon."

Dís slid off her chair, settling onto her knees in front of him. "Thorin," she murmured, " ** _nadad_** , you need a break. You have been so busy the last few months, making sure everyone is settled, making sure the mountain's mines are safe, preparing for your coronation. You have three weeks until your wedding. Use this time to actually look after yourself for once. Do something you _want_ to do. You've spent your entire life giving everything to your people, asking for so little in return. For once in your life, Thorin Oakenshield, be selfish! No one deserves it more than you, and I know Alana will appreciate the break as well."

Thorin was torn. He wanted to, Mahal knew he did, but his sense of duty kept reminding him that he shouldn't. One of the oaths he'd taken at the crowning was to say that his priority would always be his people. That he had to give up his selfish desires and ambitions. Could he truly do this for himself so soon after making such promises?

He was broken from his thoughts when Dís took his hands in her own, her brows furrowed. "Talk to Alana," she murmured softly. "Talk to her about it; listen to her thoughts. I have said my piece to you. Discuss it with her, and decide together. But please remember that you have your family and friends at your back - you don't have to carry the weight of this kingdom alone." She stood then, leaning forward to press a kiss to Thorin's forehead, before leaving the room in a far calmer state than that in which she had entered.

Sighing, Thorin pushed the idea to the back of his mind for now, vowing that he _would_ talk to Alana about it, and maybe even Balin and Dwalin too. She was right that he had people he could rely on, and he was grateful for that. Sometimes it just took a little nudge in the right direction for him to push aside his pride enough to ask for help.

* * *

"How's my favourite patient doing?" Alana asked cheerfully as she wandered into the healing house, ignoring the healers present who glanced up in surprise at her sudden and unexpected appearance. Oin rolled his eyes fondly at her, but quickly got everyone working again, leaving Alana alone to talk with Tamalyn and Makaylen alone.

Makaylen was sat up on her bed, her mother sat beside her with her nose in a book, the younger looking thoroughly bored. Still, when Alana approached them, both dwarrowdams glanced over at her and smiled, though surprise also shone in their eyes, as if they hadn't expected her to keep her word about visiting them again.

"Lady Alana," Tamalyn greeted pleasantly, arching an eyebrow when Alana shot her a mildly chastising look at her use of 'Lady'.

"Hi, Tamalyn," came the casual response. "What's that you're reading?"

"Master Oin gave me a book about healing practices," she told her, holding up the thick tome. "I've been trying to learn as much as I can."

"Thank you for this," Makaylen cut in quickly. "You don't know how much this will help us."

Alana shrugged slightly. "It was nothing," she said dismissively. "Now, how are you feeling?"

"Still a little queasy," Makaylen admitted, "but I'm alright. Unfortunately, Oin won't even let me stretch my legs. I'm officially on bed rest."

"It'll help," came the dry response. Makaylen sighed loudly, causing her mother to shoot her a disapproving look, while Alana just laughed. "Hey, believe me, I know how dull it is to be stuck in bed all day. But you'll be up and about faster than if you try to get out of it. Just drink lots of herbal tea - that should help to keep your body regulated. And feel free to throw away any tea that Oin makes himself - he's a genius when it comes to poultices and such, but somehow he always manages to get tea horribly wrong."

Makaylen giggled and whispered, "Do you really think you should be saying that when he's right there?"

Alana shrugged. "Oin's half deaf, so he won't hear. But even if he did, it makes no difference to me. He's my friend; part of that means I get to tease him and he's not allowed to get too angry at me for it." She winked at the bemused dwarrowdam, before grabbing a chair and pulling it up beside her. "So, tell me about yourself."

Makaylen blinked. "You... want to know about... me?"

"Why wouldn't I? And please don't say anything along the lines of 'because you're a noble', or whatever. I've already gone through all that with your mother."

"W-Well, actually, I just thought... Well, I'm a patient to you. I didn't think you'd want to know about _me_ , as it were."

Alana sighed with exaggerated patience. "Listen, none of that matters. I don't care about race or class or whether or not I helped you survive an allergic reaction. I really don't. It doesn't matter - you're still a person who has interests and hobbies, and a unique life that's all theirs. So feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but I'm curious to learn a little bit about that life of yours."

Makaylen eyed her for a long time, as if expecting her to start laughing and declare that everything she'd said had been some kind of horrible joke, but Alana remained watching her patiently, and eventually the dwarrowdam seemed to accept her words. "To be honest, Lady Alana, there's not much to say about me," she confessed quietly, ignoring Alana's pointed look at the word inclusion of her title.

Alana scoffed lightly. "There's _always_ something." She nudged Makaylen's arm. "Now come, tell me about the girl my nephew couldn't take his eyes off yesterday."

Her face flamed pink, and an expression of utter shock on her face. "W-What?!" she squeaked.

Alana winced. "Okay, please never tell anyone I told you that; I'll get skinned alive. But it's true! I talked to him last night, and he said he thought you looked like you could take on the world. And believe me when I tell you he wouldn't say that about just anyone. So, come on, spill."

"Well, I suppose..." Makaylen bit her lip, glanced at her mother, who nodded, before facing Alana again. " _ **Amad**_ and _**adad**_ said they never wanted more than one child," she said, Tamalyn humming beside her in agreement, "but while _**amad**_ wanted a girl, _**adad**_ wanted a son that he could teach how to fight. When I was born, he apparently said..." She paused, then turned to her mother. "What was it?"

Tamalyn smiled fondly. "He said, 'A lass with lungs like that could probably start and end a war with a single cry.'"

Makaylen smiled. "I don't really know what he meant by that; I think only he did. But in the end, he trained me like a son, yet still treated me like a daughter."

"He trained you?" Alana echoed. "What with?"

She bit her lip. "A scythe."

Alana blinked, then grinned. "That's not a weapon that's used often. Consider me impressed."

The dwarrowdam shrugged. "I never managed to master it," she admitted. "There was only so much my father could teach me, since he favoured the warhammer. They're similar enough, in a way, but still not the same."

Alana hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I know Balin uses a staff from time to time as a weapon. They're not too different. But, he's given up fighting, for the most part." She smiled. "There's always Dwalin."

"Dwalin?" Makaylen asked, almost wary.

Alana nodded. "I'm sure if you asked, he'd be willing to continue your training."

"Isn't Dwalin the tall one with the tattoos and-?"

"Yeah, that's him," Alana said with a grin. "I know he looks intimidating, but he's not so bad. If you want to keep training, just say the world and I'll talk to him about it."

Makaylen gaped at her, then glanced at her mother again, whose lips were pursed slightly, but she said nothing. "Y-Yes!" The dwarrowdam beamed, sitting up straighter. "Yes, please! I'd love to."

Settling back in her chair, Alana nodded. "Very well. I'll discuss it with him the next time our paths cross and return to you with news."

Makaylen nodded eagerly. "Thank you!"

Alana waved her off. "Don't mention it. Besides, I will never turn away anyone wanting to learn how to fight. You may find it's a skill you'll never need, but it is better to have the skills and not need them, than to need them and not have them."

Someone cleared her throat behind them, and Alana turned to see one of the healers waiting patiently with a twisted smile on her face. Alana had never learned this dwarrowdam's name, but she got the feeling she wasn't very well liked by her.

"King Thorin has asked to see you in the royal library, my Lady."

Alana nodded. "Okay, thank you." The healer tilted her head to the side and then spun on her heels, walking away with decisive footsteps. Alana turned back to Tamalyn and Makaylen. "I'm afraid I'll have to cut this conversation short." She smiled. "Hopefully I'll be able to drop by in the next few hours or so. If not, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thank you for visiting, Lady Alana," Makaylen called, giggling when Alana shot her yet another of her pointed looks.

With a shake of her head and a tiny smile on her lips, Alana left the healing halls, heading for the royal library. She knew that Thorin would likely be doing paperwork there - going over treaties with other kingdoms, since there were representatives from all of them still in the mountain.

It was unsurprising, then, when she arrived to see him with his head bowed over a table, a pot of ink and a piece of paper in front of him, a fine quill in his hand. He looked up when she approached him, smiling and then placing the quill in the inkpot. He turned his whole body to face her, grasping her hands in his and then capturing her lips in a soft, tender kiss.

Alana was pleasantly surprised by this, but nonetheless responded eagerly, moving her hands to grasp at his hair and pulling him closer. His hands circled her waist and tugged her so she was flush against him, before rising to press at her shoulder blades. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tangling and dancing with her own.

When they pulled back to draw breath, Alana was shocked once more when Thorin's lips shifted down to her neck and shoulders, where he carefully pushed down her sleeve a few inches. He then attacked the newly bared spot with his lips and teeth, sucking and biting and laving at it, while Alana just did her very best not to let her knees buckle, overwhelmed as she was by the intoxicating sensation. At length, Thorin pulled back, taking a quiet moment to admire the fresh bruise he'd left on her skin, before glancing up at her through his lashes and smirking suggestively at her as he moved her sleeve back into its previous position.

Alana had a dazed look on her face, her mouth open and her cheeks pink. Thorin smiled, cupping her face and tilting her eyes down to him. " _ ** ** **Asti abnâmul kuthu nurutsi baraz'alâj,** ** (You're cute when you blush,)**_" he murmured, leaning up to press a much more innocent kiss on her lips.

" _Amin delotha lle, (I hate you,)_ " she replied, blinking her daze away. She took a small step back before he could draw her into anything else so... so... whatever the hell _that_ was.

Thorin chuckled. "No, you don't," he retorted easily, smirking again when Alana rolled her eyes.

"So, what did you drag me here for? And if you're about to tell me that what we just did was the only reason, I'm going to throw you out of the nearest window. I don't care if I first have to drag you by the ear through three public corridors; I _will_ do it."

Stifling his laughter, Thorin mused, "I don't doubt you for a second, **_atamanel_**. But no, the reason I asked you to meet me here is to discuss with you something my sister suggested."

"Uh oh," was her immediate response, and Alana settled on the arm of the closest chair. "That sounds dangerous."

Thorin grunted. "She seems to believe that you and I should take a day or two away from the mountain."

Alana blinked. "She thinks what?"

He chuckled. "It was something to do with needing a break from our work, and making the most of the last three weeks before we wed."

Alana frowned. "She _does_ know that we have duties here, right?"

"Yes, I did point that out."

"And that you were only crowned yesterday?" Thorin hummed again, silently conveying that yes, he had mentioned that too. Alana cocked an eyebrow. "And she still insisted?"

Thorin shrugged. "My sister is nothing, if not persistent."

Alana chuckled. "Yeah, you two have that in common." Thorin shot her a bland look, but she just smiled innocently in response, dropping to sit in her chair properly. "I don't understand," Alana admitted. "If you know these things, why are you bringing this up with me?"

"First, because it concerns you as well, and second, because Dís wanted me to get a second opinion. To talk it through with you so we could decide it together."

Alana sighed, leaning back further into the cushion of the chair. "Thorin, as much as I'd love to do this, now is not the time. Everything is still too fragile around here - I'm genuinely terrified that something will go horribly, horribly wrong while we are gone."

Thorin nodded. "You and I both," he mumbled, sitting in the chair opposite her. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, a contemplative expression on his face. "I have convinced myself that that is the best course of action, multiple times, and yet I cannot get the idea out of my head."

Smiling almost wistfully, Alana leaned forward and pried his hands away from his face, holding them in her own. "We'll be able to do this," she murmured. "We'll plan it and arrange it so all possibilities are covered. But not now. We can't. It is too soon. Our duty to our people must come first; always."

"I know," came the quiet reply. "But I cannot fight what my heart desires. And it desires this time with you, more than anything else."

"Just be patient. That time will come." She placed her hand on his cheek, and his stormy eyes met her. "And when it does," she whispered, sliding out of her chair so she was knelt in front of him, "we will make sure it is one of the best days of our lives." With another smile on her lips, she pulled Thorin into another kiss, and the world fell away beneath them.


	14. The Dangers Of Royal Life

**A/N: Yay! More drama! Just don't hate me, 'kay?**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: ajg0001 and alpahis :) Thanks, guys**

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 **Faron Oakenshield: The idea of a spontaneous visit from Gandalf and/or Bilbo. And thanks for the permission! :)**

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* * *

 **'In every adversity lies the seed of an equal or greater opportunity.' ~ Napoleon Hill**

* * *

 **Chapter 14:**

Coughing, Alana squinted through the thick smoke, her eyes and throat itching in protest. She stumbled out of bed, her vision swimming as her head pounded, and her knees shook with the strain of holding her upright. Alana gasped in breaths, trying to fill her lungs with air, but all she got was more smoke. The cloud in front of her eyes was almost too thick to see through, but she could see just enough to make out her little window. She rushed towards it, undoing the latch with shaking hands, then pushing the window open as wide as possible. Immediately the smoke began pouring out of the window, but she knew it wouldn't be enough, so with a foggy head, Alana headed for the door. She dragged the thick robe that was draped across her chair with her, pulling it on as she fumbled for the door latch, her vision starting to darken at the sides. Letting out another stream of hacking coughs, Alana finally managed to pull the door open, slamming it closed behind her to keep the smoke in.

Her wobbly legs, now unburdened by the need to stay strong, collapsed underneath her, and she slid to the floor with her back against her door. Still trying to cough up the itch in her throat, Alana didn't notice one of the doors nearby opening, and so jumped out of her skin when a pair of hands suddenly grasped her face.

She felt groggy as she met Dís' concerned gaze. Wincing, Alana wrenched her face from the dwarrowdam's hands, coughing again, feeling like someone was running a knife over the inside of her throat. A fresh wave of dizziness washed over her.

"What happened, _**namad**_?" Dís murmured, tucking a lock of Alana's hair behind her ear.

Alana sucked in a deep breath, having to breathe deeper and faster to keep her lungs happy. "I think," she gasped out, "I think someone tried to kill me."

Dís' face hardened instantly. "Why do you think that?"

Alana shook her head, her chest aching. "I can't..." Her voice broke. "I... I..."

That concern returned, and Dís nodded sharply, before hollering at the top of her voice towards the right. "Thorin!"

Alana groaned. "I don't feel well," she choked out, Dís' expression darkening further.

"Thorin! Get out here now!"

Alana barely noticed Thorin emerging from his room, wearing only his loose nightclothes. He looked far from impressed, though his face paled dramatically when he saw her draped across the stone floor. It seemed she only had to blink before he was by her side, crouching down beside his sister.

"What happened?" he demanded, pressing his hand against Alana's skin. Alana flinched back from it. Usually his hand was warm - bordering on scorching - but now it felt uncomfortably cool.

"I don't know," Dís admitted. "I came out when I heard her coughing. She said she thinks someone tried to kill her, but I don't know why."

Thorin's face darkened, and he glanced at her door. He reached out a hand for the latch when Alana caught hold of his ankle, drawing his eyes down her way. She shook her head. "Smoke," she wheezed, then winced and began retching again, the coughs so harsh against her throat that tears sprung up in the corners of her eyes. She cringed, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

"Thorin."

Alana's eyes widened when she drew her hand back, seeing a trail of blood there. Her wide eyes met the horrified expressions on the faces of the two dwarves in front of her, before she found herself being whisked off of the floor. The world spun, and she felt a swell of nausea in her stomach. Alana buried her face into Thorin's chest, allowing his familiar scent to settle her head slightly. She heard Dís' quick footsteps fade away.

"Tell me what happened," Thorin pleaded softly.

Alana groaned weakly, knowing that speaking would hurt her throat, but there was such a haunted look on his face that she couldn't bear to keep him in the dark until it didn't hurt so much. "Fire damper," she spat out, wincing again.

"It was closed?"

"Must have been."

"That explains the smoke, at least," he grumbled, his voice holding on to a dangerous note that made her realise he was only just keeping his anger and fear in check. She tried to comfort him wordlessly, drawing little circles on his chest, through the material of his tunic. He glanced down at her. "Why was the fire even lit?" Alana shook her head, blinking when dizziness swarmed her again. Thorin frowned. "It wasn't you who lit it, was it?" he guessed, and Alana shook her head again, more carefully this time. He cursed softly under his breath. "Okay. We'll sort this out later. First, we need to make sure you're okay."

Alana nodded weakly, focusing on trying to breathe in enough air to keep her head from throbbing so much. The position she was in wasn't helping much, as it compressed her chest slightly, but she didn't risk hurting her throat even more by telling him. She knew that smoke inhalation was dangerous, and could have permanent consequences. The fact that she was coughing up blood was a real cause for concern - it meant that her lungs could have been badly damaged by the smoke. With luck, it wouldn't be serious, and would clear on its own. But if it _was_ serious, she knew there wasn't all that much that Oin would be able to do to help.

She coughed again, weakly this time, feeling a dribble of blood run down her chin from the corner of her mouth. Her tongue flicked out to clear it away, but she couldn't stop the genuine fear that began to grow in her chest. She had faced death many times, had stared it down and come out on the winning side, but now she had so much more to lose by dying. Put simply, she didn't _want_ to die. She wanted to keep living. She wanted to marry Thorin and live her life happily alongside him.

Alana didn't realise there were tears running down her face until Thorin himself noticed that his shirt was growing damp. He tilted his head down, noting the pain on her expression. His pace picked up, and he mentally noted that, in future, he would ensure there was a healer closer at hand than the current healing house. Or perhaps he would ensure another house was established. Either way, the journey between the royal quarters and the healing house felt like it would never end, and the longer he walked, the more the dread built up in his chest. Pressing his lips to her forehead, Thorin hoped that he would be able to make her feel better, silently reminding her she was not, and never would be, alone.

She smiled weakly, before her body convulsed as a feeble splutter left her lips, and as she breathed in again, her breath caught in her throat, making a rasping noise that grated against his ears. Her eyes widened, and in a panic she hurriedly tried to inhale a second time, only to get the same result. Thorin recognised the signs of growing hysteria, and murmured softly to her, almost flying along the long halls now. Alana made no sign that she had heard him, her grip on his tightening, her breaths coming in desperate gasps, her chest rising and falling and her heart hammering.

"Alana, calm down," he urged, more panicked himself. "Alana, _**atamanel**_. Slow down. Breathe."

But she didn't. Eventually her breathing _did_ indeed slow, but he realised with horror that the reason for that was because she had worked herself into such a state that her body could take no more. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her head lolled back, and she went limp in his arms.

* * *

Thorin hadn't been able to bear the sight of Alana as she was - pale, with purple lips, still unable to breathe properly even after Oin had stepped back and proclaimed that there was no more that he could do. Thorin had hesitated, not wanting to leave her side, but he needed to find out what had happened.

From what she had been able to tell him, a fire had been lit in her fireplace, with the damper shut tight, and so the room had begun filling with smoke. He had brought Fili, Kili, Dwalin, Balin and Nori into her chambers with him (the first four because he trusted no one more, and the latter because he had a sharp eye for things that others might overlook), and they had made note of everything before them. The window was open wide, but they all agreed it was probably Alana who had opened it. The whole room was still clinging to the acrid smell of the smoke, the five of them scrunching up their noses at the scent. The damper itself was designed in such a way that it could not fall closed on its own or by accidentally knocking it - that meant someone had deliberately closed it, and had thus intended to harm Alana.

Beyond that, there was nothing. Just the ashes and embers left by the fire as it burnt itself to an end.

Thorin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Balin glanced at his brother, whose brows were furrowed deeply. None of them were anywhere close to happy about what had happened, but they knew Thorin had it worst. As much as he knew that Alana could look after herself in the wild, in a council room, and even on a battlefield - this was something he would forever be beating himself up about. These were the royal quarters; protected by guards every hour of the day, and supposedly the safest place in the entire kingdom. That someone had managed to get past all those defences to pull a stunt like this concerned them all, but there was a weight on Thorin's shoulders that they had all come to learn meant he was assigning the blame to himself. Because he hadn't protected her. Even though there was no possible way he could have known something like this would happen, the fact that it _had_ was a massive issue. One he certainly didn't take lightly.

At length he exhaled heavily, glancing up at his friends. "Dwalin," he began, and the tattooed dwarf drew himself up, alert and listening. "I want you to wander the kingdom, see if there is anything to see or hear that is out of place. Anyone who looks suspicious enough to be a possible culprit for this. But don't let anyone know that anything is amiss. Be as subtle as you can. Understood?" Dwalin agreed with a sharp nod, and upon receiving one in return from Thorin, he turned and left. "Balin, get the rest of them into the hall as soon as you can." Balin, understanding instantly, nodded, and he too left. The King then turned to his nephews. "Fili, I want you to inform the rest of the company what's happened. They too must act as if everything is okay, but I want every one of them on the lookout for anything that might not be right. The more trusted eyes and ears we have, the better. Once that's done, I want you to visit the guest quarters. Talk to everyone; man, dwarf, and elf. Make sure no one is missed. There's a chance this is not sourced back to anyone within this kingdom."

Fili nodded, and after sharing a quick, worried glance with his brother, he too left the room. Kili turned back to Thorin, whose lips were pressed into a firm line. "What about me, uncle?" he asked. "What can I do?"

Thorin hesitated, before sighing. "I want you to stay by her side," he said at last, his voice cracking and breaking as he finished: "Only leave it if she gets suddenly worse, and if that's the case, come and find me immediately. Okay?"

Kili might have been upset by his duty, and its simplicity, were it not for the fact he knew perfectly well how much Thorin loved Alana. To be asked to keep an eye on her in his stead was no small thing, and Kili knew it. He too loved Alana; in a different way, of course, but she was still family. That she had been attacked like this lit a flame of utter fury in the pit of his stomach, though he tried his hardest not to let it grow any larger. He nodded, accepting his responsibility with ease. Then he frowned. "Where will you be? What will you do?"

Thorin sighed. "I have a council meeting not long from now," he told his nephew. "I will attend, and will do what I can to judge those around me. Though it is _unlikely_ one of them would make a move as bold as this, there are one or two that I know have little love for her. I wouldn't put it past them to try something like this to further their own ends." Kili nodded, and with one final glance at the russet haired dwarf standing silently in the corner of the room, he too left. Thorin turned at last to Nori, who met his gaze calmly. The thief's eyes were like ice - cold and hard, simmering with low anger. Whilst most of the time Thorin would be wary of a character like Nori, the dwarf had proved himself loyal a hundred times over, and he too had a special fondness for Alana. This made him invaluable in a situation such as this. "I want you to stay here," Thorin instructed. "Scan every inch of this room for anything that might give us an idea on who might have done this. Anything at all that might be out of place."

Nori nodded. "I'll start at once." And he did. The moment the final letter left his lips, he turned around and headed back towards the fireplace, crouching in front of it and peering at it through narrowed eyes.

With a suppressed sigh, Thorin left Alana's chambers, heading for his own. He then stopped and stood like a statue in the open doorway, staring sightlessly ahead. He wanted to see Alana again, almost more than anything, but every moment he spent with her would be another lost trying to work out who would dare to attack her life like this. And he trusted Kili to care for her. Thorin exhaled, schooling his face into a mask of calm indifference, before entering his room and shutting the door.

He had a council meeting to prepare for.

* * *

Kili could feel his concern running through his blood like a virus - growing and multiplying faster than he could fight it off. Alana didn't seem to be improving, her breath still grating its way up her throat, her lips still a sickly shade of purple-grey, and her skin paler than the snow. Oin went back and forth between her and his other work sorting herbs, checking over her every fifteen minutes or so to ensure she didn't suddenly get worse, but beyond that, he did nothing. There was nothing he _could_ do, until she either began breathing easier or regained consciousness.

Kili sat on a painfully uncomfortable chair by Alana's cot, holding one of her hands in between his. Her skin was as rough as his own - a testament to how long she had lived with a blade in her hand. Yet it felt fragile still, and the irony of the fact her hands were so much smaller than his was not lost on him.

"What happened to her?"

Kili lifted his head at the soft voice, seeing the dwarrowdam who Alana had treated for allergies - Makayla? Makaylen? Yeah, that was right - walking towards them. Kili frowned. "Shouldn't you still be on bed rest?"

Makaylen snorted. "I think I wore them down," she informed him dryly. "I'm not used to staying still, and I don't like it."

Kili chuckled weakly. "No, neither do I."

Makaylen frowned as Kili turned back to Alana, his face grim and solemn - which said a lot about how worried he was, given that his usual up-beat and cheerful countenance was difficult to displace. "Tell me what happened," Makaylen urged.

Kili hesitated, knowing that Thorin wanted as few people as possible to learn what had happened. He also knew, however, that Makaylen wouldn't be allowed back home for another day or two, by which time the situation would have hopefully either been solved, or would have been announced to everyone. That Thorin hadn't immediately been pushed into a raging storm meant that Kili knew whoever proved to be guilty of this... there would be no mercy from the King. He was beyond the stage of explosive anger, and was instead in a far more dangerous place - one of calm contemplation and cold fury.

"Prince Kili?"

Kili blinked the thoughts away, taking note of the worry on Makaylen's face even as she frowned at him. "Just Kili," he corrected quickly. "Please."

Makaylen nodded. "As you wish." She pulled the chair over from its place beside her own bed, moving it next to Alana's. She sat down, eyes flicking between him and Alana. "Will you now tell me what happened?"

Kili released a weary sigh, knowing she wouldn't let the subject drop. He couldn't quite get a complete read on her - she was far too closed off for that - but he sensed enough to know her concern was genuine. "There was a... an incident," he admitted at last. "Someone managed to get into Alana's room last night. They lit her fire, closed the damper, and her room filled with smoke. That's what's wrong with her - she breathed in too much of it."

Makaylen looked utterly horrified. "Someone tried to _kill_ her?"

Kili nodded. "We think so."

"B-But... _why_?"

"She's the future Queen, yes, but she's not Queen yet." Kili sighed, fiddling with Alana's fingers without really knowing he was doing it. "She's also not a dwarf. While most people are okay with her union with Thorin, there are others who are less so. It is not far-fetched to assume that it is such a person who attacked her as they did. She becomes a lot more powerful and a lot more difficult to get to when she becomes Queen - hence why it happened now, I think."

"But she's so kind," Makaylen whispered, eyes scanning Alana's pale face. "She's so genuine."

"Not everyone knows that the way we do," Kili reminded her, frowning again. "Not everyone has had the chance to meet her. I've heard the odd rumour - that she is marrying Thorin just to get to the throne; for the power and the high status." He shook his head, scowling at the owners of said phantom voices echoing in his head. "If they just could accept the _truth_ , then all this would go away."

"The truth?" Makaylen queried, bewildered.

Kili's expression shifted, and he smiled softly. "The truth of what they mean to one another," he told her, finally tearing his gaze from Alana and meeting that of the strong dwarrowdam. He couldn't help but let his eyes rove over her face, taking in her mostly hairless jaw, her dark eyes and her smooth skin. He quickly averted his gaze when he realised he'd stared at her probably too long to be appropriate, and spoke again before she could make any mention of it. "I saw every moment of it. I watched their love for one another grow. They always respected each other, I think. Certainly, Thorin accepted her into the company easily enough. Mahal, they could argue, though. Thorin can be short-tempered sometimes, but she never backed down from him, and was never afraid to accuse him of doing something stupid. It infuriated him at first, but I think in the end it helped them to build trust in one another."

"When did they realise?"

Kili blinked, snapping himself out of the light daze he'd fallen into. "Realise what?"

"That they loved each other."

He hummed thoughtfully. "For Thorin, I think it was when Alana was... when she nearly died not long after we'd crossed the Misty Mountains." Makaylen's eyes flashed with what he thought to be alarm, but he couldn't be sure. "There was a good chance her wounds would have been too much for her, and I don't think Thorin got much sleep that night - if any. I know I didn't. I spoke to him the next morning, around dawn. I got to him to admit to me how he felt about her, and I think that was the first time he'd admitted it to himself, too." He sighed, looking at Alana's face again. "As for Alana... I don't know for sure. I expect it was around the same time, though." Kili ran his thumb along Alana's cool fingers. "I've never seen Thorin happier than when he's with her," he admitted. "I've known him my whole life, and it's only been in these last few months that I've managed to see a side of him that, before, only very rarely showed its face. She's changed him."

"And what about her?"

"She gave up everything for him - including her family. They'll be able to visit, of course, but she gave up her chance to train her brother to survive in the wild, as she was taught. She gave up her people to help Thorin rule of his own. Even when things looked like they were about to collapse, she never left his side. I know that part of her misses her old life - the one where she roamed the wild on her own, free to do as she wanted - but I also know she'd never be able to leave him. Not unless he himself asked it of her, and the day _that_ happens is the day the sun turns to ice."

Makaylen nodded, her eyes also on the Ranger. He watched her closely as she leaned forward, sweeping a stray hair away from Alana's face. She then glanced back over at him. "Will you let me talk to them, when you find out who did this?"

Kili blinked. "Why?"

"Because I want to tell them how they're wrong about her. I want to see if I can get them to see her through my eyes."

Kili smiled. "I would be grateful for you if you did, as I'm sure would many others, but Thorin is... far beyond furious about this. I'm not sure anyone will get the chance to talk to the culprit once he or she is found."

Makaylen settled back into her chair, a frown on her face. "Is there nothing we can do?"

"Find whoever did this," Kili stated with determination. "Find out _why_. That's the only thing we have the power to do. Alana's recovery relies on her, and her alone."

Biting her lip, the young dwarrowdam glanced over at him again. "Will she? Will she recover?"

"Of course," he stated, with a confidence that he didn't really feel. "She's survived worse. This is nothing to her."

Makaylen nodded, sorrow thick in her gaze. "I hope you're right, Kili."

"I am. You'll see."


	15. Logic and Instinct

**A/N: I'm sorry for the delay again :/ I've just had so much work to do recently, since it's nearly Christmas and I work in a retail store (talk about exhausting). To the people who have sent me PMs in the last week or two, I want to reassure you that I HAVE read them, I just haven't had much time to do more than post chapters when I have a free ten minutes or so (so apologies, but I actually haven't properly proofread this or the last like four chapters). I'll get to those PMs ASAP. Anywho... Little bit more happening in this one, but the big stuff is next chapter... ;)**

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 **Review Response(s):**

 **Sparky She-Demon: Hmm, maybe. Haven't decided yet. We'll see I guess. But if I do choose to go that route, I want it to be much more realistic than what happened in the movies with Kili and Tauriel, so it might take a while.**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Heh, she's a tough cookie :) She'll be fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine ;)**

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 **ro781727: You'll just have to wait and see... ;)**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Well, she's a tough one, so she'll be fine, I'm sure... :P**

* * *

 **'Do not underestimate the determination of a quiet man.' ~ Iain Duncan Smith**

* * *

 **Chapter 15:**

Thorin knew something was off the moment the dwarves of the council stepped into the room. It was odd - like there was something that charged the air around them. While the others moved towards the council table, Balin approached him with a grim expression.

"They know," he murmured quietly.

Thorin's eyes widened. "How?"

"I'm not completely sure," the older dwarf admitted, glancing back at the others. "But I get the impression someone saw you taking Alana down to the healing house. They don't know everything - but they know something is very wrong."

Grunting, Thorin glanced at his friend. "Anything suspicious so far?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," came the slightly disappointed reply. "No one is acting strange in any way." Balin sighed. "I don't know what we can do, Thorin. There's only so far this investigation of yours can go without any evidence."

Thorin's eyes darkened. "My One just got attacked in her own home," he snarled, though Balin didn't react, knowing this anger was not aimed at him. "I will not allow something like this to go unpunished. If it takes me the rest of my years on this world to find out who did it, so be it."

Balin exhaled heavily again, before nodding. "Alright, laddie. Just be careful you don't let this turn your focus away from the other things that need attention."

Thorin bit back a scathing retort, knowing Balin was right. Attacking a monarch was treason of the highest form; even an uncrowned one. It was more than just his desire to find the person responsible; it was his duty as King. But he had other duties, and, hard as it may prove to be, he couldn't ignore them. With a drawn-out sigh, Thorin nodded, and the two of them moved to take their places at the council table.

While Balin sat down, Thorin remained on his feet, glancing over the dwarves in front of them. Every one of them was wearing an expression that seemed genuinely confused, and while part of him was pleased to learn this, the other part had almost hoped that one of them would be obviously guilty - so that he could get this over with and put it far, far behind him.

"There is no real way to put this softly," he started, "and neither would I want to." His eyes flickered over the group once more. "Lady Alana was attacked last night."

Many faces fell slack with shock, and a few paled. Only four of them remained relatively calm at the news; Balin, and Lords Boitu, Venrik, and Avar. Balin, of course, knew enough of this for it not to shock him. Lord Boitu was generally a stern-faced man, and was excellent at hiding his true emotions behind said mask. The last two Lords were amongst the oldest there, and they knew there was more to be said, so refrained from reacting.

"What happened?" asked a shell-shocked Lord Casmar.

Thorin exhaled heavily, finally falling into his seat. "Someone tried to fill her room with smoke," he stated in as calm a manner as he could. "They lit the fire and closed the fire damper."

"Is she safe?"

Thorin nodded slowly. "She's alive," he answered with caution. "She inhaled a lot of the smoke, and it caused a significant amount of damage. She is currently in the healing house - unconscious, and with severe breathing problems."

The Lords all exchanged looks. "But who would dare to do such a thing?" Lord Avar questioned, his brows furrowed deeply. "It's treason!"

"That's what we are trying to find out," admitted the King. "I hope it will be a fairly quick investigation, so for now this will remain between us." His face became severe. "Which means, if I hear news of anyone knowing about this who shouldn't, I will know to whom I must turn for the blame. Am I completely understood?" The Lords nodded quickly, not one of them unaffected by the quiet rage in his voice and on his face.

"Have you found anything so far, my Lord?" Lord Boitu asked, leaning forward.

Thorin hesitated, before shaking his head. "Nothing yet. But we only began looking an hour ago, at most. If anything is to be found, it will be done soon." He leaned back. "I will keep you updated on our progress," he stated firmly, before waving a hand. "Go about your business as normal, until then."

The Lords stood from the table and bowed their heads, before filing out of the room. Balin paused by the door, glancing back at Thorin, who remained seated at the table, his eyes staring at nothing. With a sympathetic frown, the white haired dwarf left the council hall, allowing Thorin to have some time alone with his thoughts.

The main problem with that was the fact that Thorin had no idea what to think, nor how to react. Of course, he was utterly furious that someone had dared to make an attempt on Alana's life, and there was still a lingering sense of fear and panic hanging over him, but those were instinctual reactions to what had happened. With the opportunity to think things through... he didn't know where to go.

There was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that something about this wasn't quite right. That there was more to it. But no, if that were the case, someone else would have noticed, surely.

He released a heaving sigh.

With people making their way around the mountain looking for anything out of the ordinary, and not much more to do until something concrete was found that could progress their investigations further, Thorin was at a loss. He wanted to be knee-deep in the investigation, but with all his duties in the kingdom, he would have to rely on others to do things for him, reporting back their findings. Perhaps that would allow him to have a different perspective of everything; see it more from a distance, so he might spot something that had previously been overlooked. Or perhaps it would do the opposite, and he would be unable to see something that should have been obvious.

Either way, the fact that he would have to sit down and continue as if this had never happened left an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Fili returned to the royal quarters with a heavy heart, having found nothing of any significance, and he had felt not even the smallest glimmer of suspicion towards anyone in the guest quarters, everyone acting perfectly normally (for themselves, anyway - Elladan and Elrohir were still as subtly nefarious as ever).

He met with Kili just outside the healing house, the brunette closing the door carefully behind him. "How is she?" Fili asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.

Kili glanced back over his shoulder, as if looking through the door that now barred him from her. "She's breathing easier," he answered slowly. "But she's still not woken. Oin's beginning to grow worried."

"He said this?" questioned the blonde, furrowing his brows.

Shaking his head, Kili mirrored Fili's expression. "No, but it was written all over his face."

Fili sighed. "Come on," he said at length. "Thorin will be expecting a report of what we've found by now."

Kili nodded. "You're right." He paused. " _Did_ you find something?"

"Not a damn thing," growled Fili in return. "I just hope one of the others had more luck."

But they hadn't. Balin and Dwalin were in the room with Thorin when the Princes entered, the other three all looking distinctly unhappy. Thorin glanced up at their arrival, raising a questioning eyebrow. The brothers shook their heads - Fili reporting that there was nothing suspicious to be found amongst the guests, and Kili reporting that Alana's condition hadn't changed.

The King exhaled heavily, his shoulders weighed down by an invisible burden, and the bags under his eyes more pronounced now. "Has anyone seen Nori?" he asked.

Everyone shook their heads. "Is he not still in her room?" Kili inquired with a confused frown.

"No, he's not," Thorin growled. "And I dearly hope he has a good reason for his absence."

"Don't worry," came a blithe voice from the door, and everyone whirled around to see the aforementioned thief waltzing into the room with a little grin on his face, "I did."

"And what would that be?" Thorin asked bitingly, narrowing his eyes.

Nori held up a little orange gem. "I found _this_ on the rug on Alana's floor."

"What use is a gem?"

Nori rolled his eyes. "Well, _obviously_ , it's fallen off of something. Now, I checked over Alana's wardrobe - no orange gems at all. My absence, as you put it, was because I was down in the market, talking to a jeweller. This little stone isn't even real - it's a fake. A good one, admittedly. But that's neither here nor there, because none of Alana's clothes would have fake gemstones on them."

Thorin raised his eyebrows. "You mean it came off of someone else's clothes?"

Nori nodded, throwing the stone up in the air with his left hand and then catching it in his right. "A woman, in fact, according to the jeweller. Probably one of high birth; even fake jewels are quite expensive. Chances are it's a noble family that's running out of money, but are desperate to make it seem like everything's still going swimmingly."

No one really knew how to respond to that. The simple thing would be to enter the house of every noble family with female members and rummage through their wardrobes, looking for a dress with a missing jewel that matched the one in Nori's hand. But that was hardly subtle, and right now Thorin's main priority was keeping this whole thing secret. To alert the mountain's residents that the Queen had been attacked - within her own home - would cause unwanted panic, and would probably be the spark that led to chaos, thus slowing everything down; including this investigation.

Thorin held out a hand, peering closely at the stone when Nori passed it over to him without a word. It indeed made for a very convincing gemstone, but he trusted the word of the jeweller that this was just mimicking the real thing. The fact that it was an unusual colour made things a little easier - the dwarrowdams who wore such colours were few in number (perhaps as few as a dozen).

"I don't understand," Fili murmured, drawing everyone's eyes his way. "Why would someone want to attack her?"

"Jealousy?" Balin suggested. "Jealousy for her position at Thorin's side. Perhaps they believed they were removing competition."

Scoffing, Kili shook his head. "If they think _killing_ her is going to help them, they're clearly mad."

"Perhaps they're desperate," Balin offered, with a touch more sympathy than the others in the room. "Perhaps they felt they had no other choice."

Thorin growled. "There is always another choice. This was not an act of defence or survival - this was attempted murder!"

"I know that, lad," Balin reminded him gently. "But we must consider every angle."

"The only 'angle' I care about is the fact that someone tried to kill my wife," snarled the King, eyes dark with fury. "Whether out of desperation or cruel intent, this is an act that I cannot and will not forgive."

Fili and Kili exchanged glances with one another, neither of them wanting to admit that they had heard this darkness in his voice before - one where his fury masked his good heart and morals. They had seen it before, when he was a slave to the gold sickness.

Fili swallowed, then spoke up hesitantly. "When we find who did this, what are you going to do?"

Balin sighed, answering in Thorin's stead. "The punishment for treason is death," he told them grimly. "It is the gravest of crimes, and so must in turn receive the gravest of consequences."

"Tomorrow," Thorin began, looking a little calmer now, much to the relief of the others, "we will begin our search for the owner of this gem." He glanced at Nori in particular. "Do not let anyone know that you are searching for something. Make a note of any and all who wear orange gems - male and female. It might be that this was planned by an entire family, and not just an individual. If one of you happens to see a dwarrowdam in a dress with a stone of this shape, size and colour _missing_ , then bring them to me immediately; regardless of what prior plans I may have." The five other dwarves nodded solemnly, then turned to leave when Thorin waved a dismissive hand.

Fili and Kili silently returned to their rooms. They had one of the conjoining suites in the royal hall, their bedrooms sitting wall to wall, with a door that allowed easy access from one room to the other. They entered into Kili's room, which was closest to Thorin's.

"He's not well," Kili noted sadly.

Fili nodded in agreement. "No, he's not. But you can hardly blame him - you and I aren't exactly happy about this."

"Of course we're not!" Kili's frown was deep now, and Fili couldn't help but momentarily mourn the happy grin that spent most of its time on his little brother's face. "But Thorin's anger is usually explosive. This is... something else. I don't like it."

"He'll be better when Alanawakes up," Fili stated with confidence. "She will calm him down enough to think properly."

Biting his bottom lip, Kili glanced at his brother. "Do you think she'll heal from this?" he asked hesitantly. "Completely, I mean. Smoke can do a lot of permanent damage."

Fili sighed, sitting on the edge of Kili's bed. Kili joined him a moment later. "I don't know," the blonde admitted. "I hope not, but... it's hard to say at this point. I'm worried about her - she should have woken up by now, surely."

Kili nodded in agreement. There was silence for a while as the two brothers mulled over their thoughts, before Kili spoke again. "Do you think we'll find who did this?"

"I think we must. I dread to think what will happen to Thorin if this mystery goes unsolved."

Kili shook his head. "I can't imagine loving someone so much," he confessed quietly, and Fili shot him a startled look. Kili shrugged. "I know that the love between Ones is unique, and cannot even begin to be compared to the love shared between family members, but... that's the only love I know. It would destroy me if any of you were killed, and the attack on Alana hurts _a lot_ , but the way Thorin's acting..." He shook his head a second time. "It's like his very existence is tied to her well-being, and the moment she's not completely healthy he just... I don't really know how to describe it. He just changes."

"Would you not expect him to?" Fili asked seriously, and Kili instantly began vigorously shaking.

"No, that's not what I meant. He just doesn't seem like him. Or rather, he goes back to how he used to be. Alana has made him so incredibly happy, and I know he's terrified of losing her." The younger brother sighed, flopping back onto his bed. "I just wish things would be okay for a while. They're getting married in three weeks. That'll cause enough chaos on its own. I just... everything's happening so quickly; I feel like I can't keep up sometimes. I miss the days when everything was normal and calm."

Fili chuckled. "Aren't those the days when you complain about not having enough to do?"

Snorting, Kili nodded, finally letting his signature grin appear. "Yeah, good point. Still, it'll be nice to have that back."

"Yes, it would," Fili agreed, before standing. "We'll get this sorted out," he assured his brother. "And when we do, we can put all this behind us."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm your big brother, Kee. I'm always right."

* * *

When Alana woke, she was alone. The healing house was dimly lit, only a few small candles burning in the sconces on the walls. Her breath still rattled its way up her throat, but the burn in her chest had lessened from what it had been before. She couldn't say how many times she'd felt herself drifting back into the waking world, feeling every inch of the pain in her body, before succumbing to darkness again. But at last it seemed that the worst was over.

With a soft groan and a wince, Alana pushed herself into a seated position. She glanced around her, noting that almost everyone who was present in the room was sleeping - the only one awake was the single healer who was in charge of dealing with the patients during the night. She was by the supply cupboard, checking stocks of bandages and herbs and the like, with her back turned from Alana.

For a brief moment, Alana considered sneaking out of the healing house and returning to her comfy, fluffy bed in her own room, but knew that it wouldn't be worth the effort, given the tongue-lashing she'd no doubt receive for her actions.

Letting out a small huff, Alana flopped back onto the hard bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Maybe the shock of it just hadn't hit yet, but she felt strangely detached from herself; as if the attack hadn't been made on her, but rather someone else. She felt separate from her own body, in a strange way, and yet she could feel the aches and pains left behind.

"Oh, thank Mahal!" Alana tilted her head to the side, smiling when she noticed that Makaylen was now also awake, and the young dwarrowdam was looking over at her with a relieved grin on her face. "You left everyone rather afraid for you, Alana," she said.

Alana gave a sheepish shrug. "It was hardly my fault."

Makaylen's eyes hardened. "No," she agreed fiercely, "it wasn't."

"Is everyone else okay?" the Ranger asked.

Makaylen frowned. "I think so," she murmured. "The Prince - uh, Prince Kili, that is - was here looking after you for most of the day, but I get the feeling they're searching for whoever it is that did this to you. King Thorin is _far_ from happy."

Alana sighed. "Yeah, that doesn't surprise me," she grumbled, running a hand over her face. "You know, that little trip Dís mentioned is looking a lot more appealing right now."

"What trip?"

Alana smiled sheepishly. "Just a trip. Away from the mountain. Something that could give Thorin and I a few days of privacy before the wedding. With everything that's gone on for the past few months, we've not had many chances to spend time together."

Makaylen stared blankly at her. "So... why weren't you planning on going?"

"We have duties and responsibilities that we can't ignore. Thorin's only just been coronated - it isn't right that he should disappear on a selfish whim when people are relying on him to run this kingdom."

Scoffing, Makaylen shook her head. "King Thorin - more than anyone else in the world - deserves and _needs_ a break. He needs to take some time for himself. In my entire life, I've never known him to have a day to himself, or even to go out for a drink somewhere. I know that doesn't mean he's _never_ done those things, but you get my point." Alana still looked a little doubtful, so the woman tacked on, "Do you really think we couldn't look after ourselves for a day? A week? We're dwarves! We'll be fine."

"I know that," Alana assured quickly, though there was a fond smile on her face. "Trust me, I know that as well as you do. But I also know that we're right about waiting. It's okay, though. Once things have settled down, we'll be able to do it. Right now just... isn't the right time."

Makaylen frowned. "I don't understand you," she stated bluntly, and Alana cocked an eyebrow at her. "You're constantly surprising me," the dwarrowdam explained. "The moment I think I know you even slightly, you go and do something completely unexpected."

"If you want to know something about me," Alana started with a crooked grin, "it's that I will always go for the unexpected option. Makes things more fun that way."

Makaylen rolled her eyes. "See _that_ didn't surprise me. You're just... strange."

"Thank you."

Chuckling, the dwarrowdam settled back into her bed, and Alana did the same, her eyes staring blearily at the ceiling. Despite the long stretch of sleep she'd just woken from, she still felt weary. So, with another quick glance at the auburn haired dam at her side, Alana curled up on her side, arm tucked under her head, and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Thorin had been thrilled to see Alana was awake and smiling when he visited her the next morning. Her voice was a little rough still, and there were occasions when she would dissolve into hacking coughs, but there was no more blood to be seen. Oin was confident that she would be back to normal within a month or so, as - despite the initial symptoms - the damage to her throat and lungs didn't seem to be too severe.

Aragorn and Gilraen visited shortly after Thorin left to meet with the company (whom he had informed her were his eyes and ears around the kingdom, all of them on the lookout for suspects of the attack). Her brother had only suggested in passing that he knew she was injured at all - he acted as if she was the peak of health, talking her ear off about how his training was going, how he'd found a great friend in Balur, and how Gloin's son, Gimli, was a rather intimidating dwarf who could probably 'crush him with a single bear hug'. Alana had laughed at that, and had retorted that, if Gimli even tried, she'd be there ripping him off of her little brother. Aragorn just grinned broadly in response.

Gilraen fussed more over Alana's health, but eventually let the subject drop when Alana became more than a little frustrated with her mother's worrying. Then the topic moved to her and Thorin's wedding, and how she and Dís were struggling to find compromises between the warring marriage traditions of men and dwarves. She had then admitted that the feisty dwarf woman was growing on her, and that the two of them had often proved to be quite the team. Alana wasn't at all surprised to hear that; for as much as she took after her father, she was also her mother's daughter. If _she_ liked Dís, it was almost inevitable that Gilraen would as well.

Alana and Makaylen had their lunches together that day, talking about this and that. Alana promised once again that she would talk to Dwalin about continuing Makaylen's training with her scythe, and Makaylen had in turn asked about Alana's upbringing and training. She was hesitant at first, but Makaylen was patient and understanding, and in the end Alana found herself grateful to have someone else to talk to about it. She didn't, however, state the truth of her lineage. That was for a later time, if ever.

It wasn't long later that the healing house filled up with dwarves who had been injured during training (a partition was drawn around Alana's bed to give her privacy, and to keep her presence in the room a secret). Makaylen was then told she was free to leave, and Alana was sure she'd never seen anyone's face light up quite that quickly. Makaylen uttered a rushed goodbye to her new friend, and then all but fled from her temporary prison.

Alana couldn't stop herself from laughing at that.

She dozed off again in the afternoon, having the whole room to herself. Alana had assured the healers that she would be absolutely fine on her own, and they had left only when she had turned her request into an order, heading back to their homes and families.

While she felt okay, in reality, Alana's body was still healing. She let out a pitiful groan when she heard the door squeak open, and her ears detected a pair of feet moving towards her bed even before she opened her eyes. Tilting her head to the side, Alana's face became awash with shock as she registered the bright eyes and amber hair of the one who'd decided to visit her.

"... Hello."


	16. Familiar Corridors

**A/N: I don't what I'll be hated for the most... that cliff-hangar ending for the last chapter, or what happens in this one... Guess I'm about to find out. :P Enjoy, and leave a comment to let me know what you think!**

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 **Guest: Aww, thanks! Yeah, I almost edited that bit out, too. Then I realised it was a cute thing and left it in. Might use that again later... ;)**

 **Rohirrim Girl 2178: Yeah, but, from my point of view, cliff-hangars I awesome. I get to watch you all flail... :P I'm kidding, sorta...**

* * *

 **'Having a soft heart in a cruel world is courage, not weakness.' ~ Katherine Henson**

* * *

 **Chapter 16:**

Thorin fell back heavily onto his bed that night, his face pinched with mental exhaustion. Despite his desire to do otherwise, he had allowed himself to be convinced by Oin to let Alana rest without being disturbed. Though she was showing promising signs, the old healer still worried that something else might reveal itself. The chances of that happening, apparently, would be lessened if she got enough rest.

But, to be quite frank, Thorin missed her.

It had only been a day, and he had gone just as long as this without her presence before, but this was different. In those other situations, there was a chance she might spontaneously appear at his side, and his day would be all the brighter for it. Today, he had seen her in the morning, and spent the rest of the day looking forward to seeing her again, when his work had been completed. It was disheartening to be unable to experience the one thing he had been eagerly anticipating since the sun was still rising.

What was worse was that - even with more than a dozen pairs of eyes searching unfalteringly for Alana's attacker, they hadn't made any headway. The gem was their one and only lead. It was a start. It was a good start at that, but at this point, it was proving to be not quite good enough.

A frown flickered over his face at the soft knock on his door. He didn't often have visitors, but those he did have usually pounded on the door with their entire hand. This quiet knock was hardly familiar to him.

Caution warred with curiosity as Thorin stood, heading towards the door. He hesitated, wondering briefly if this was in fact Alana's attacker, visiting him to try to take him out as well, but then the dwarf King realised the ludicrousy of that. Thorin would not be an easy opponent to beat, even for the best of warriors. And any with the intention of opposing him in such a way would be foolish to remove the element of surprise.

With a heavy exhale, he opened the door.

His eyes widened in mild surprise, before his manners took over again, and he quickly schooled his expression. "Good evening, my Lady."

Lady Gilraen was stood frowning before him, not yet in her nightclothes, wringing her hands in front of her nervously. "Hello, King Thorin," she greeted in return.

Thorin couldn't help but chuckle. "Come now," he said with a small smile, "you are Alana's mother. You are family. There is no need for such formality."

Gilraen nodded slowly. "Then I suppose you should simply address me by my name, also."

He nodded in agreement, before another frown crossed Thorin's haggard features. "What brings you here tonight?"

"I... I came to talk about Alana, mostly."

With his eyebrows in his hairline, Thorin nodded again, gesturing her inside. Gilraen hesitated in the doorway, before accepting the invitation and entering his room. "What's wrong?" Thorin asked, noting she still hadn't let go of her frown, nor had the nervous energy around her dissipated even slightly.

Gilraen sighed. "I worry for her, Thorin," she admitted. "Not even a year has passed since you first set foot in this mountain, and she has faced many dangers. I know that things are still settling, but I don't want this to keep going on."

Thorin exhaled heavily. "I know what you mean," he grumbled, sinking into a chair. "I have found myself concerned for her life more times than I care to count. But Alana is strong. She will get through this, as she has everything else." He met Gilraen's pleading eyes firmly. "This will not continue, I swear it. An example will be made of the one who dared to attack her, and she will never again be in such immediate danger." Biting her bottom lip, Gilraen nodded slowly. Thorin frowned. "Something still bothers you?"

"I'm just... trying to understand."

"Understand what?"

Gilraen frowned. "If their intent was to kill her... Why didn't they? Alana was asleep, unable to protect herself, and instead of just... killing her they decided to light a fire and... and choke her. Why?"

"To avoid being blamed, most likely," Thorin muttered, running his hands over his weary face. "A cut throat or a stab wound makes it obvious someone else entered with the intent to kill. A fire could have been lit by Alana herself."

"But what if they never intended to kill her?"

Thorin straightened, narrowing his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Hands trembling still as she clasped them together in front of her, Gilraen began to pace. "What if their intention was merely to weaken her? To make her vulnerable?"

"And then what?"

"I don't know," the woman admitted. "I don't know, but I cannot get this idea out of my head. I have a terrible feeling that there's more to this than attempted murder."

A feeling of dread settled in the base of Thorin's stomach. He himself had thought there was something off about all this, but no one else had seemed to think that, so he had kept it to himself. Had labelled it as needless paranoia. But to have his thoughts mirrored by Gilraen made him realise with a sinking feeling that perhaps he'd been wrong to ignore his gut.

He was on his feet before he could blink, startling the poor woman in front of him.

"Where are you going?" Gilraen asked as he strode determinedly towards the door.

"To check on Alana."

Gilraen nodded, following him out and matching his quick stride as the two of them walked through the long and mercifully empty halls down to the healing house. Even so, Thorin mused, meeting someone might have been better. While they walked in silence, the tension in the air grew to the point where it was crackling, and he himself felt like every muscle was going to rip in half from how strained they were. An interruption might have helped in that sense.

In the end, though, he was grateful that there was no one who tried to stop them while they walked. They were down at the healing house in record time, and Thorin decided not to wait before he pushed the door wide open, only to then freeze in his step.

Alana's bed was empty.

* * *

 _(An hour before)_

Alana pushed herself into a seated position, eyes wide with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Before her, chewing sheepishly on his bottom lip, was Bambur. The little dwarfling had wandered into the healing house in near-silence, but the small squeak of the door had been enough to catch Alana's attention. To say his appearance caught her off guard was an understatement.

" ** _Ada_** said you were ill," he confessed, trotting towards her bed. "I wanted to see you."

Alana sighed as he came to a stop by her bed, only tall enough to rest his chin on the cold, metal frame. His eyes were impossibly bright and innocent as they gazed up at her, and she couldn't find the strength in her to turn him away. Instead, she let out a second sigh and then patted the small space beside her.

Bambur beamed, moving to scramble up into the bed, though his short stature meant he needed a little extra help. Bambur ended up sitting on her legs - still smiling broadly, mind you - and the sight was so adorable that Alana couldn't help the pang that shot through her. This was something she desired; a child of her own, one who relied on her and who she could spoil rotten until she was blue in the face.

She swept a wayward curl out of his face, chuckling softly when he scrunched up his nose, as if expecting her to poke him there (as she had done on their first meeting).

"Does you father know you are here, Bambur? Or your mother?"

He slowly shook his head. "No," he admitted. "They wouldn't let me."

"And why is that, do you think?"

Bambur pouted. "Because I'm too little."

Alana nodded. "Exactly. You shouldn't be out wandering by yourself. It is something even adults seldom do."

"But I'm here now!" he protested. "I made it okay." He peered up at her through his lashes, eyes shining in a way that Alana knew was meant to be used so he could get his way, but even with this knowledge, she was powerless to fight against it. "Please let me stay, Queen 'Lana. Just for a little while."

Holding back a sigh, Alana nodded. "Alright. Just for a little bit, and then I'll take you back home. There's no point in you scaring your parents into thinking you're missing."

Smiling widely once more, Bambur nodded in agreement, then began happily babbling about this, that, and the other. Alana humoured him, listening with an amused smile on her face, nodding and smiling in all the right places.

After what was probably around half an hour, during which Alana had spoken no more than about five words, Bambur settled down. He blinked blearily, then let out a loud yawn, his mouth forming a little 'o' and his hands rising to rub his eyes.

"I think it's time you went to bed, mister," Alana said teasingly.

"Can't I jus' stay here?" he mumbled, yawning again.

With a mental groan, Alana felt herself caving once more. "Alright, fine. But no arguments in the morning, okay? You and I will _both_ get in trouble for this otherwise."

Bambur nodded, waiting for her to lie back down on the bed before he shifted further up her body, snuggling into her side. His hands grasped tightly onto the material of her tunic, and he exhaled a happy sigh.

Alana's last thought before she fell asleep was that she couldn't remember Aragon being this difficult to say 'no' to when he was younger.

* * *

Her eyes flew open, her entire figure tense and alert. The weight of Bambur's body was gone, and that became all the more clear when she looked to her left.

He was cradled in the arm of a dwarrowdam, who was humming to him - no doubt to keep him from waking. The dam was pretty, with surprisingly fine, honey-blonde hair, and an impressive beard on her chin, which was braided in three places.

Next to the dam, holding the cold knife - which had been the thing to wake her - to her throat, was Lord Boitu. His eyes were impossibly dark, his face shrouded in shadows as he glared balefully at her.

He sneered, and hissed in a low voice, "You shout, you try to run, you fight back, you so much as step a _toe_ out of line, and I kill the boy."

Her eyes widened, snapping onto Bombur's sleeping figure once more. The dam was staring at Boitu in shock, and if Alana hadn't been so distracted, she would have seen the way the woman's fingers tightened ever so slightly around Bambur's body.

Alana turned back to Boitu, glared at him with all the venom she could muster, but then nodded in agreement. There was no way she'd dare to risk Bambur's life, even if the chances of him coming out unscathed were relatively good. They'd need to be much, much better than 'good' for her to try anything.

Under Boitu's rather aggressive instruction (namely, his knife pressed hard against her spine), Alana stood and walked towards the door, not meeting the dam's eyes as she accepted Bambur into her arms. The dwarfling continued snoozing calmly, blissfully unaware of what was going on around him.

Alana kept a firm grip on him as she was escorted through the mountain by Boitu and the dam, whom Alana was beginning to suspect was Boitu's sister, Bergni. They took routes that were empty, so no one ever noticed the peculiar group climbing higher and higher through the kingdom.

The higher they walked, the harder Alana's breathing became, and the weaker she felt. It got so bad that she had to pass Bambur back to Bergni, her breaths scratching their way through her throat.

Three more levels up, and their progress stopped completely. Alana's legs caved, and she had to hold on to the wall to support herself as she started coughing, the noise echoing in the wide space around them. This was when Bambur woke up, instantly panicked, but Alana was at his side again the moment she had regained her breath, picking him up and whispering reassurances in his ear.

They moved even higher, climbing level after level.

It was at this point that Alana started to recognise the corridors around her. She prided herself on having a keen eye for places, so when the dim bell of recognition rung in her ear, she looked around properly.

They were in an open cavern in the mountain, bridges across the levels visible all around her. The rock was lit by a gloomy light, the source of which couldn't be seen.

It was only the faint _chink_ of metal on stone that had it finally clicking into place.

Alana glanced down, noting that she had stepped on a gold coin. Her eyebrows rose when she realised that this was a corridor along which they had walked when trying to escape Smaug. It was a corridor leading off of the western guardroom.

In the end, that proved to be their destination. There weren't any dwarves living this far up in the mountain yet, but it had nonetheless been repaired in preparation for such a time. The giant boulders of rubble had been removed, and she herself, with the help of Fili and Kili, had removed the charred bodies that had once been in here. In the place of the rubble was now a door, thick and made of stone. The room itself was empty.

Alana, still clinging tight to Bambur (who had buried his face in her hair and was trying very hard to hide his fearful tremors), turned to face the siblings.

"If I might inquire, what exactly is it that you plan to gain from this?"

Boitu scowled. "You may not," he shot back. "Nothing that has anything to do with this kingdom, or the people in it, is any business of yours."

Bambur suddenly drew back from his hiding place, frowning deeply. "But 'Lana's the Queen. You can't do this!"

Alana shushed him quickly, eyeing Boitu as his hand hovered over the hilt of his knife. Her eyes were hard again. "Do you really think this will work as planned? That nothing will go wrong?"

"I have planned for such an event," he shot back. "You will waste away up here, and the King will forget you, and everything shall turn out how it was always meant to."

Alana smiled wryly. "Is that what this is about? Your position?" She glanced at Boitu's sister. "You still wish to convince Thorin to marry Bergni, don't you?"

Boitu's face closed off in the blink of an eye. "That is no business of yours."

Fury flashed across her face, and she bared her teeth. "Thorin is to be _my_ husband. And while I still live and breathe I shall not give him up. I will not allow you to _use_ him. So you'll forgive me if I think that it _is_ my business."

The Lord smiled wanly. "And yet, here you are. What use are you all the way up here?"

She smiled. It was sardonic and mocking (and also full of completely feigned confidence), and when Boitu saw it, there was a tiny flash of uncertainty in his eyes. "The fact I am up here at all says everything I need to know about you and your plan. It is more complicated than you make it out to be, else I would not be alive still."

Boitu's eyes narrowed, before he spat on the floor, and spun around. He stomped out of the room, meek little Bergni following out a moment later, and in the distance there came the sound of a door slamming shut, and a key turning in a lock.

Alana's first thought was to check the stone door behind her. She had to use her entire body weight, but eventually she managed to push the door open. Bambur followed her out into the open air, the guardroom opening out onto an old balcony. The stone railing was three feet high and still relatively intact for how old it was, even with Smaug's rampaging over time.

While it had at first seemed promising, a cursory glance downward showed there would be no escaping this way - at least not without a very real chance of mortal injury. The balcony was carved into the top of a very sheer cliff, thirty feet tall at least, and the nearest sloping mountain wall was a jump to the left at least half that distance.

"What are we going to do, Queen 'Lana?" Bambur asked her, clinging to the skirt of her robe.

Alana's face hardened. "We're going to find a way out of here," she told him firmly. Then her countenance softened, and she looked down at him with a smile. "Don't worry, Bambur. We'll be alright."

"How do you know?"

"Because I won't give up until we're back with our families."

Bambur bit his lip, then nodded at her. She was somewhat touched by his immediate trust in her, but she also knew he didn't have much other choice.

Heading back inside, Bambur and Alana began exploring the space that they were still able to access. The door blocking the path that went back the way they'd come was made of cast iron and wood, too strong to be kicked in (or down). Another pathway led upwards, ending in what looked to be an old barrack, now devoid of arms and armaments, and there was no sign of any previous life apart from the aged bed frames that were scattered across the floor.

The only other path was along a straight, narrow bridge, below which was a fall so far that the bottom couldn't be seen. The end of this path was a flat platform, and there was a hint of an ancient doorway on the far wall. The problem was, that doorway was blocked by huge boulders, the smallest being the size of Alana's torso, and the largest taller than she and Bambur combined. Yet this seemed to be their best route out - Boitu and Bergni would probably expect an escape attempt through the door, and so would be more likely to notice if one of them tried to get free down that way.

Alana was eyeing the boulders contemplatively, when Bambur tugged gently on the sleeve of her robe. She looked down at him.

"Do you really think they will find us?" he asked quietly.

With a firm expression, Alana knelt in front of him and placed a grounding hand on his shoulder. "You listen to me," she began sternly. "Your **_adad_** would search to the ends of world and back for you, and we both know it. With Thorin searching as well, the search will go a hundred times faster. This mountain is only so big. It won't be long before we're found, and when we are, we will never have to part from our loved ones again. Okay?"

Bambur bit his bottom lip, his eyes tearing up, but he still nodded. "Okay," came the whispered reply. Alana sighed, before scooping the little dwarfling into her arms and hugging him close. Bambur shuddered, then began to cry softly. "I'm scared, Queen 'Lana," he admitted. "I want to go home."

"I know, sweetheart," she murmured in return, letting him bury his face in her hair and ignoring the tears that splashed onto her skin. "But we'll get through this. I swear it."

"Really?"

"Really."


	17. Silent Rage

**A/N: Merry Christmas for tomorrow! I don't know what time it is for you wonderful people, whether its morning or evening or somewhere in between, but it's 10:30pm here in the UK and I figured I'd post this before I go to bed. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year! I'm sorry for the wait, but I've just been SO busy with work (I work in retail, so things go mad around this time of year). On that note; chances are I won't be able to post the next chapter for a while because I am working every day now until the 30th (during which I will be busy with college work), and then I'm working again on the 31st and the 1st. SO it might be a bit of wait. Sorry for that, but hey, that's life. Still, I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas! Xxx**

 **BIG thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: samisunamoosed1, Greg36, CandeUnicornio and Pthor**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **animexchick: Well, sure, but where would be the fun in just making it fluffy and cute? Fun for me, that is. You guys have to suffer, obviously... XD Thanks! Glad to hear you're enjoying it!**

 **ro781727: You'll just have to wait and see...**

 **MissCallaLilly: People do stupid things sometimes. Boitu is just going to have to deal with the consequences, whatever they may be ;)**

 **CrystalVixen93: Thanks, and here ya go! :)**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Bambur's a brave boy. Plus, he's got Alana to look after him. He'll be okay, I promise.**

 **Rohirrim Girl 2178: Obvious for some, not for others... :)**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Aaaaah, sorry for that wait...! I tried, honestly! But hey, I got it in before Christmas at least :P**

 **Dreamer4life16: HELLO, MY BEAUTIFULLY CRAZY FRIEND! I MISSED YOOOOOUUUUUUU! *waves furiously with four hands, because two is not enough* How've you been? Good, I hope. I hope you had more luck than I do when I try to learn languages - I tend to get bored after learning the basics of the basics. Sorry about there being no wedding yet (and with the current plan, it'll be chapter 24/25ish...!) But it'll happen, I swear! No nasty surprises on the horizon from here until then. What happens beyond that... Who knows...? ;) Heh, Makaylen seems to be a point of interest for a lot of people. I was planning to only write her in as a small part at first, and then I was like 'Oh my God, so many IDEAS' and it all just took off from there. As for Aragorn, I'm really looking forward to writing him as an adult. I have one particular scene in my head already, though it'll take me a while to get there, as I have SO much to get through first (yay, fun times!). Thorin was 195 during BotFA, and I've made his birthday to be sometime in July, so he'll be 196 soon. But you know, he's a busy dwarf who had to look after a kingdom... not sure how that'll equate to 'experience', but meh. Still, you get to see Thorin's reaction in this one.. Hope it doesn't disappoint...! (Hi again, because seriously, I missed your awesome and insane reviews. They make my whole week every single time xxx)**

* * *

 **'I'm not a person to say the words out loud. I think them strongly, or let them hunger from the page: know it from there, from my silence, from somewhere other than my tongue, the quiet love, the silent rage.' ~ Keri Hulme, from _Against the Small Evil Voices_**

* * *

 **Chapter 17:**

When the people of the mountain woke the next morning, it was to the sound of a loud bell, echoing off walls and down tunnels and into even the deepest, most remote corners of the mountain. Those that had lived here before Smaug came knew that this meant the people were summoned to the great hall. Their King had an announcement to make; an important one.

The sun was barely halfway through its ascent in the sky when the dwarves of Erebor and the Iron Hills, the elves of Mirkwood, Lothlórien, and Rivendell, and the men from Dale, Rohan, and Gondor, were gathered together. There was a buzz of curious anticipation in the room as they waited for Thorin to make his entrance. Whatever news was to be shared, there was a general consensus in the room that it was not going to be good news.

The Princes strode in first, both of them unusually grave and pale, and the tension in the room rose tenfold.

Then Thorin entered, his haggard appearance a concerning sight, but it was the absence of the future Queen at his side that caught the most attention. Alana was not the official wife of the King, but she had accepted her role as Queen before the mantle had truly been passed to her, and many had come to greatly respect and admire the woman for her acts of bravery and selflessness over the past months. To most in this room, she was, by rights, Queen Under the Mountain.

A heavy silence filled the room, all eyes trained on Thorin as everyone waited for him to speak. He didn't waste his breath.

"Three nights ago, Lady Alana was attacked while she slept." There was a stir in the crowd as people glanced at one another, frowns being the most common expression. They quickly stilled again, letting Thorin continue. "The intention of the perpetrator is not entirely clear, but Lady Alana was quite seriously hurt, and had to be sent straight into the healing house. As a matter of perspective, I will tell you that she did not wake for the entire day following the attack." Everyone began murmuring then, their voices joining together to create a buzzing noise. Thorin raised his hand, calling forth another silence. "The reason I have called you all here is because she has disappeared. The youngest child of Master Bombur is also missing. With this in mind, we have reason to believe that the two of them have been taken against their will, and that they are together. We strongly suspect the young lad was used as leverage to keep her from fighting back."

"What makes you believe that?" called a faceless voice from the crowd.

For the tiniest of moments, a little smile curled at his lips. "When you know Alana, you know that she would never otherwise go down without a fight. And with her skills, she would not lose." His face hardened. "A full-scale search of the mountain and its surroundings has been implemented. Even as I speak, fifty dwarves are scouring the halls of the mountain in search of one or both of them. In a case like this, we can never have too many eyes, so if you think you see something of note, I implore that you report it." Thorin's face darkened considerably, and even the bravest, hardiest of warriors would admit that the expression sent a shiver down their spines. "If the culprit of these crimes is in this room, then know this: when you are found, and you _will_ be found, there is not a soul on this land who can save you from the punishment that your deeds command."

No one was completely unaffected by the words Thorin spoke. The thing that hit hardest, though, was his voice. It was cold and angered, but underneath that first layer was a heartbreaking anguish that couldn't be completely hidden. If anyone had before had any doubt that Thorin genuinely loved Alana, then it was gone in that moment.

His eyes swept over the crowd, seeming to peer into the heart of every man, woman, and child gathered in front of him, before he turned on his heel and left. There was a moment of absolute silence, before the room exploded into sound.

Some people were crying in outrage at this turn of events, others turning to those they didn't like and throwing baseless accusations at them. The noise caused more than one child to start crying, and this in turn meant mothers all over the room were desperately trying to shush their shouting family members.

The noise was interrupted by the high-pitched shriek of a whistle, and everyone turned to see the amber haired dwarrowdam who had fallen unconscious at the coronation dinner standing before them. Fili and Kili jerked in surprise at her thunderous expression.

Makaylen stepped forward, speaking out with a voice that was clear and firm, and it couldn't be denied that it was powerful when filled with the anger she held in her now. "Do you really think that shouting at one another, pointing fingers, and making such a commotion is in _any_ way helpful?" she snarled, glancing around the room. "The Queen has been taken, and every moment that you lot stand around calling each other names is another where she is _not found!_ So, for Mahal's sake, if any of you have _any_ love at all for your ruling monarchs, you will _leave this hall_ and _start searching for her!_ "

No one really knew how to react to that. Some turned to the Princes, expecting them to rebuke this strange dwarrowdam for her actions, but they instead seemed pleased with this turn of events. With the occasional grumble, the dwarves and elves and men filtered out of the room.

After exchanging a glance with one another, Fili disappeared too, leaving a parting pat on his brother's shoulder. Kili then stepped towards Makaylen. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips as she watched the last of the crowd leave, before she let herself relax, and a sharp breath left her lips. Her expression suddenly became sheepish, her cheeks growing pink as she turned to face the amused Prince standing next to her.

"Sorry," she murmured, biting her lip.

"Don't be," Kili laughed. "It was fun to watch, and it worked in getting everyone moving." His expression became teasing as he gave her a soft nudge. "You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Makaylen shrugged sheepishly, not meeting his gaze. "Maybe..."

Kili sobered then, a frown forming between his eyebrows. "Where do you think she could have gone?"

"I don't know," the dwarrowdam sighed. "But I do know that none of us are going to give up until she's found."

Something about her words drew Kili's attention, and he found himself looking at her closely. Her downtrodden demeanour, strangely enough, made him want to give her a hug, but he knew that would be inappropriate. Instead, he tilted his head to the side and asked bluntly, "Why are you doing this?" Makaylen's eyes flickered to meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. "I know she helped to save your life, but in most cases, gratitude alone would not drive you to act like this. Why are you doing it?"

She slumped slightly. "Alana gave my mother her first glimmer of hope in months," she explained quietly. "She gave her something to strive for; a new purpose to fulfil. _**Amad**_ loves her new role as a healer, and has taken to it like a fish takes to water. I haven't seen her this happy since my father died." Makaylen shrugged. "Besides, Alana's my friend. Or at least, I like to think she is. She's kind and brave, and she's given my mother and I more than she knows. Yes, I owe her a debt. But that doesn't matter to me right now, because all I want is for her to be safe. I don't want to lose my friend."

Propriety be damned, this woman _needed_ a hug.

So Kili stepped close to her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. Makaylen tensed for a moment, seemingly unsure, but eventually accepted the comfort that Kili offered and settled into his arms.

"We'll find her," Kili murmured, as much to convince himself as her. "And when we do, everything will go back to normal."

"How can you always be so optimistic?" she asked him, peering up at him with those wide, imploring brown eyes.

Kili couldn't find an answer for a second, finding himself getting lost in her gaze. Then he blinked, and with a clearing of his throat, he replied, "I have to be. If I wasn't, I'd surely go mad. I know we'll find Alana - uncle won't let us rest until we do. Focusing on the end result helps to keep my spirits up."

Makaylen considered his words, before nodding. "I understand," she whispered, before hesitantly leaning further into him. Kili drew her fully into his arms, unable to fight his enjoyment of the feeling. He liked being needed, and he liked the feeling of helping someone. It wasn't something he felt often - being the youngest, he was always the one to be protected and looked after. He was always the one who needed others.

Being able to comfort Makaylen made him feel strangely warm inside. It was something he liked probably a little bit too much. Face flushing at the thought of what Fili would say if he caught them like this, Kili stepped back. Then he placed his hands firmly on Makaylen's shoulders, made sure she was looking him in the eye, before he said again, "We'll find her." Then he drew himself up to his full height, stepping back once again to give her more space. "In the meantime, we probably ought to go and help with the search. As you so aptly pointed out, every moment we spend standing around..."

"Is another where she's not found," Makaylen finished with a crooked smile. "It rhymes and everything." She met his gaze, seeming suddenly shy. "Thank you, Kili."

Kili nodded. "You're welcome. Now, let's get going."

* * *

"Queen 'Lana?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm hungry."

Alana sighed, gently brushing back a few wayward locks of Bambur's hair. The two of them were in the main guardroom, Alana with her back against the wall and her legs pulled close, while Bambur leaned against her body, tucked safely underneath her arm. "I know you are, Bambur. But I'm afraid there's nothing I can do right now."

He peered up at her, his chubby face pressed up against her side. "Are we going to die up here?"

"Of course not," she stated firmly, mustering a smile for him. "If nothing else, I won't allow it."

Bambur made the effort of looking cheerful, but Alana could tell easily enough that his heart wasn't in it. As much as she tried to comfort and console him, she knew he didn't believe her fully. He had hope, of course, that she might be telling the truth but... well, it was hard to convince someone of something you yourself don't fully believe. Alana hadn't been lying when she said that she believed Thorin and Bombur would be willing to turn the mountain inside out to find them, but whether they'd be found in time was another matter.

Bambur buried his face into her side when the creaking of the wooden door echoed into the room, and Alana pulled the little dwarfling closer, her eyes pinned on the empty doorway. She didn't so much as blink when Bergni stepped in, a plate stacked high with different meats in her hands. Alana was wary as the dwarrowdam got nearer, but she didn't detect any kind of real threat. Bergni was evidently rather unhappy about the whole situation, though Alana guessed the dwarrowdam was powerless to change it.

"No sign of your brother?" Alana asked scathingly when Bergni paused a few feet away, biting her bottom lip and looking for all intents and purposes _terrified._

The dam jumped at the sound of Alana's voice, her eyes going wide, before she quickly caught herself and schooled her features. She couldn't completely cover up the tremble in her fingers though, the plate in her hands trembling with it. "He's outside," Bergni said at last, her voice almost a whisper. "To make sure you don't escape."

Alana raised an eyebrow, a twist in her gut telling her that Bergni wasn't being entirely truthful. She then sighed, relaxing her frame just enough for Bambur to notice the difference, his large eyes peeking up at Bergni from where they'd previously been hidden. He perked up instantly when he saw the food on the plate, but was kept from jumping to his feet by Alana's restraining arm.

Bergni noticed this, and tried to give him a comforting smile (and, ultimately, she failed). Still refusing to step any closer, she knelt down, placed the plate on the floor, and then stood up again.

She then spun on her heels, practically fleeing from the room. She had just made it to the doorway when Alana called out to her. The dam froze, a fearful expression flashing across her face once more, before slowly turning back. Alana frowned. "Why are you letting him do this?"

Bergni's eyebrows shot up into her hairline, but then she glanced towards the wooden door, and she hurriedly shook her head. Without another word, the dam scampered away.

Alana realised then that the fear she'd seen in Bergni's eyes was not towards her. It was not a fear of what Alana could do. It was, instead, a fear of what her brother would do if Bergni messed things up. If this failed, Alana had no doubt in her mind over who would get the blame, and who would suffer the consequences.

She was broken from her thoughts by Bambur ducking under her arm and crawling towards the plate, sitting himself beside it. He eagerly grabbed onto two sausages and stuffed them both straight into his mouth. Alana couldn't stop herself from smiling.

Bambur, his cheeks puffed wide, turned to look at her. "Woul' 'ou li'e one?" he asked. Alana cocked an eyebrow. He flushed, clearly understanding her silent reprimand, before swallowing and asking again, "Would you like one?"

Yes, she would. She was starving. But Bambur was still a young, growing boy, and he needed the food more than she did. So she shook her head. "No, that's alright, Bambur. You go ahead and eat that. I'll have some next time." Bambur frowned, confused by her answer, but ultimately he didn't turn down the offer of extra food (she had a feeling he wouldn't). To distract herself from the dull ache in her stomach, Alana stood up. Bambur stared curiously up at her, absently chewing on the scrap of bacon he'd chosen as his next victim. "You stay here," she instructed firmly. "I'm going to have another look around. Don't move, okay? I don't want to come back and be unable to find you."

Bambur nodded, mouth too full of food to answer, but Alana sensed he would keep his word. She strode determinedly out of the room, heading along the path to the narrow bridge, and the large rockfall. She clambered up the first few rocks, heading towards the top of the fall. Here, the fallen rocks were smallest (though still really quite large). She stopped beside one of the smaller ones, this one being about the same size as her torso, and tried to push it down. It didn't move even an inch. Alana tried from every accessible angle to shift the rock, using both hands and feet, but it wouldn't budge.

She thought for a moment to try the door, to see if it would swing open and allow them their freedom, but the door handle was inaccessible - buried under several feet of debris.

Alana sighed, settling against one of the larger rocks, which created a relatively comfortable perch for her. This had been a long shot, she knew, hoping that she'd be able to dig her way out. The rocks at the mine collapse had been smaller than this, and even those had needed to be broken apart and made smaller first.

Freezing, Alana ran that thought through her head again.

She was up on her feet and flying through the corridors a moment later, darting up the long staircase towards the abandoned barrack. There had been nothing obvious left in the barrack, except for the beds, but Alana hoped - _prayed_ \- that there would be something that she could use to carve up the rock. There _had_ to be.

The run caused her to become short of breath, her lungs still suffering from the smoke that had passed through them, though Alana ignored it as best she could as she searched under the beds and behind them, looking for anything that might be helpful.

But, in the end, there was nothing. The room was devoid of everything that could be of use.

With a resigned sigh, Alana returned to the main guardroom. A gentle smile appeared on her weary face when she saw Bambur lying curled up on her floor, snoozing happily. The plate was empty beside him.

Alana moved into the room and picked him up, pausing when he began to stir in her arms. Upon seeing no further signs of the little dwarfling waking, Alana moved him closer to the front of the room so that he wouldn't get cold, what with there being a rather strong draught coming in from outside. Alana tucked him against her, using her back to shield him from the cold wind. With her own arm as her pillow, Alana slipped into an uneasy sleep beside Bombur's youngest son.


	18. Reunion

**A/N: Oh my God I MADE IT! Two more days of work and then I have nearly a whole week off! SO happy right now! Hi again *waves emphatically* Sorry about the wait, but hopefully your patience has been rewarded :P**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: Sboyle92, kylynnjen, Salazar Sly and JessBoobear :))))**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Heh, I'm glad you liked Makaylen's little speech. And yeah, Alana could use a little of Aragorn's advice right now, methinks.**

 **CrystalVixen93: Aww, thanks. Here ya go!**

 **Guest: Not even sure if they're gonna end up together yet. We'll see, I guess. But no, I don't like it when people end up for no reason, so if I do decide to go down that route, I'll make it as real as possible.**

 **Sandra9417: Aww, thank you so much! And hey, your English is fine ;) Thank you for taking the time to read this far!**

 **Dreamer4life16: Yes. Shiznit is a word. It has to be. And if it's not, I will file a complaint XD Great to hear from you, though I notice you posted that comment two minutes before I started writing this reply. Hopefully the new chapter won't keep you up...! I don't know what time it is where you're from, but it's almost 10pm here, so I might follow your example and god to bed soon (early start tomorrow, ugh). The reason for the food will come up in a later chapter (probably the next one...) so you won't have to wait long for it. And hey, there might be a few Thorin/Alana moments soon... maybe... ;) And YES, I got the puns. Heh... Hope you like this chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter 18:**

It felt like every square inch of the mountain had been scoured for any sign of Alana and Bambur, and yet it had been six days with no sign of either of them. Thorin was at his wits end, quick to anger and slow to calm down, and there was a permanent black cloud over his head. Even his closest friends were exceedingly wary of approaching him, knowing that the smallest thing could set him off.

Only Dís remained at his side permanently, standing proud through his explosive rages, offering a comforting shoulder and reassuring words when his strength waned, and overall just being someone he could rely on for anything. In his more lucid moments, Thorin knew that he was being far too emotional, and he felt the pangs of guilt for driving his friends away in his concern for Alana, but he couldn't help himself.

In the early hours of the morning, when his restless mind refused to let him sleep longer than about two or three hours, Thorin could often be found wandering aimlessly through the many corridors of Erebor. He had visited the Temple of Mahal a total of four times, each time falling to his knees and praying to his Maker that Alana would be found, and Bambur, too. He had begged and pleaded, made promises and offerings, but nothing had changed. Alana was still lost, and - in a twisted way - so was he.

Thorin was wandering through the corridors again on the seventh morning since Alana's disappearance, when he was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of a hushed conversation.

His first instinct was to be suspicious, but he couldn't really find it within him to bring up much of the feeling. He was just too tired. Still, that didn't stop him from pausing in the shadowy spot he'd found, listening in on the conversation. They were not voices he recognised, but peering through the darkness revealed them to be two of the mountain's guards.

"I don't understand it," the first was saying. "He's never been a pleasant character, but suddenly he's borderline unmanageable."

"He's probably just worried about the Queen, same as the rest of us," the other guard replied gruffly. "He knows her better than most, being one of the King's council."

"Still, I don't know why it's changed so suddenly. Besides, I always got the impression he didn't like the Queen."

"Oh?"

The first guard shrugged. "Just things I hear sometimes. I know he respects her, in a way, but he doesn't _like_ her. From what I can understand, they just have personalities that clash horribly. What if he was the one who...?"

"You're worrying over nothing, Nyr. Like you, I don't hold much fondness for him, but I know he's not stupid enough to pull something like this. He'd lose too much if he ever got caught."

"I hope you're right," came the grumbled reply. The two fell silent after that.

Thorin stood in the shadows, mulling this conversation over in his head. He knew it wasn't strange for the guards to be talking about Alana - many of them were these days, for one reason or another. The vast majority of them had been relieved of their ordinary duties, making the search for the future Queen their top priority. They worked hard to find her, almost as concerned for her life as her family were, and yet still she was not found.

This conversation felt... off, though. The way the guards spoke was almost fearful, if he had to put a name to it. Like even uttering the name of the subject of their conversation would bring the world down on top of their heads. All this left was an almost mocking use of just... 'he'. That was two thirds of the entire dwarfish population - hardly anything useful to go by. Besides, an unpleasant character was hardly suspicious, or even unusual nowadays.

Thorin had a feeling he should approach the guards and ask who it was they were discussing, but when he managed to drag himself out of his mind, they were gone, with no way for him to know which direction they'd chosen as they went.

With a weary sigh, Thorin turned away, heading back to his chambers with a tiny sliver of hope that he might be able to get a little rest before the sun rose the next morning. Ultimately though, that hope proved to be in vain, as he spent another sleepless night with a mind that refused to settle.

* * *

Alana had lost count of the days she and Bambur had been up here. A week? Two, maybe? She was edging towards the latter. They hadn't seen Boitu since the first day, and neither of them mourned this loss. Bergni came up twice a day, every day, bringing with her a plate of cold meats (or bread, for breakfast) each time. Alana would only eat once a day, giving the rest to Bambur. He needed the food far more than she did, and anyway, she could handle the smaller portions. She'd been in the wild for years, eating very little for weeks on end at times. It was true, though, that she had gotten used to eating three hearty meals a day since Erebor had begun to flourish again. She could occasionally feel the effects of the lack of food. She felt tired for longer, and her limbs shook from time to time, and her stomach felt like it was collapsing in on itself. But she convinced herself that she would be okay, and she pushed past these minor discomforts.

Bambur had given up on asking her if she was sure they'd be rescued. She'd been watching as the light of hope had slowly dimmed in his eyes. It was still there, just about, flickering away like the last remnants of a great fire, desperately clinging to life. Alana held no delusions over the fact that Bambur's hope would not survive much longer.

"Queen 'Lana?" Bambur asked, appearing in the doorway with a face smeared with rock dust.

Alana sighed and gestured for him to come closer. "Yes, Bambur?" she replied as he stopped in front of her. Scrunching up his nose and screwing his eyes shut, Bambur reluctantly allowed her to start wiping the dust off his face.

"We're not going back home, are we?"

Alana paused with her thumb on Bambur's forehead, meeting the wide eyes of the young dwarfling when he opened them again. It was the first time either of them had put into words the doubts that had started to fester in their hearts. Alana sighed. "I don't know, Bambur," she admitted at last. "You just have to have hope that we will be found. I don't doubt that there are still people looking for us. We just have to believe that they'll find us in time."

"But we've been here for twelve days," he protested, frowning. "If they were going to find us, wouldn't they have done so by now?"

Sighing again, Alana drew Bambur into a hug. "Erebor is a big place, sweetheart. It takes time to search everywhere, and we're in an uninhabited part. People don't usually come this far up into the mountain."

"So... we just wait?"

"I'm afraid that's all we _can_ do, Bambur."

Bambur sighed dejectedly, but eventually nodded and pulled back from her hug, before sitting down beside her and leaning against her. He'd taken to doing that a lot recently, though Alana wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe he was comforted by her presence. Or perhaps it was as simple as the fact that she was more comfortable than the hard, cold wall that she was leaning against.

Alana began absent-mindedly running her hands through his hair, gently easing out some of the knots and tangles that had formed over time, neither of them having access to a proper comb. She knew she was stretching a few boundaries by doing thing, as touching a dwarf's hair required a lot of trust (which she had - strictly speaking - never been given confirmation of from the dwarfling), but Bambur never protested.

After a few seconds, the young dwarf captured her right hand in his own little paws, and he peered at her hand with curiosity.

"What is this ring?" he asked her, tilting his head up whilst showing her the ring he meant.

Alana smiled. "It's a ring from the Arodroch family," she told him. "They bred the first of the mearas."

"Mearas?" Bambur repeated, the word clearly unfamiliar to him.

"They're a special breed of horses; they're faster, stronger, and more intelligent than normal horses. They're also very rare. So rare, in fact, that there are those in this world who believe them to be nothing more than the stuff of legend."

"Where did you get it?"

Alana chuckled. "In a troll cave, of all things. This is one of three that are believed to have been crafted. It holds a link to the mearas, in fact. I simply have to twist it and..." Alana trailed off, her eyes widening. Then she let out a delighted noise, and kissed Bambur heartily on the cheek. "Oh, Bambur, you're a genius!"

"... I am?"

"Yes, you are," she said with a grin. "Because, thanks to you, I think I know of a way to get us out of here." And with no further words, Alana twisted the ring on her finger. As she did so, she felt, for the first time in days, a powerful hope swell up in her chest.

* * *

Alarm and confusion are strange things. They spread like a virus, often faster than the eye can keep up with them, until they consume anyone and everyone who dares to stand in their path. For this reason, it wasn't long before Thorin heard the news of a disruption at the entrance gate, though the details of said 'disruption' were lost somewhere along the line.

He had been sat in the communal room of the royal suite, the whole company at his side, along with Dís, Gilraen and Aragorn. They had been discussing the possibility of now expanding their search beyond the immediate borders of the kingdom - something that Thorin very strongly believed should have been done several days ago. But the established borders with other kingdoms meant that travelling outside of Erebor was more complicated than it sounded, though Thorin would sure King Bard, at the very least, would offer no objection should the search continue within the borders of _his_ kingdom.

They'd broken into frustrated arguments more times than Thorin cared to remember. All the back-and-forth snapping and griping was giving him a headache; something he really didn't need on top of his guilt and worry for Alana. Thorin knew, of course, that the others were just as stressed about the situation as he was, Gilraen in particular showing the strain of losing her daughter by the dark purple bags under her eyes. But that didn't stop their arguing from grating on his already frayed nerves.

He was about a second away from shouting at everyone to just _shut up for one second_ when there came an urgent knock on the door. Internally, Thorin gave a pitiful groan, knowing that it would only be something insignificant that would require his attention. Again. Such events were happening more and more frequently with the absence of the future Queen - duties that she had seen to before now going uncompleted, or someone believing that they had spotted the elusive woman somewhere. Those were the worst, because while they gave him hope for a moment, it would later be brutally crushed when he realised that it was nothing more than a false alarm.

Despite his internal reluctance, Thorin was quick to order the knocker to enter. It was one of the guards posted in the royal quarter, his brows pinched in either confusion or concern - Thorin couldn't really tell which in his current state of mind.

"There's a problem down by the front gate, my King," the guard reported. "Your presence has been requested."

Thorin exhaled heavily, straightening his spine, and then giving the guard a nod. He locked eyes with the others in the room, none of them looking like they wanted to protest against his absence, and with no more words said, Thorin followed the guard out.

His mind whirled with possibilities as they walked. What could it be? 'Problem' was a very broad word, having a thousand meanings to one person, and a thousand different meanings to someone else. Still, he needed a break from the constant planning and plotting (and, most importantly, the 'not getting anything done' aspect of said things). Perhaps this disturbance was, in fact, a gift in disguise.

When he and the guard arrived at the gate, it was to greet a peculiar sight. There was a large crowd gathered, muttering and chattering to one another, creating a low buzzing noise like that of a hive of bees. No one seemed particularly afraid or panicked, which was good, but that caused him to wonder what could possibly need his attention if it was not something urgent.

His eyes widened when the crowd finally noticed his approach, parting before him, and he finally saw the cause of the disruption.

It was Firebrand.

The mearas was dancing on his feet, looking extremely agitated, snorting and huffing at anyone who tried to get close enough to him to calm him down. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Thorin remembered Alana saying that Firebrand had come to her, at first. And that she could call him to her, with her ring. Could it be...?

Thorin stepped towards the horse, glad that Firebrand didn't immediately act like he was going to start kicking and biting at him, as he had done with a few others. Maybe the mearas recognised him as a friend of his mistress.

Firebrand came to a complete standstill when Thorin was only two feet away, and the buzzing din behind the dwarf King also stopped. Everyone watched with bated breaths as Thorin slowly lifted a hand in invitation to the horse. Firebrand slowly lowered his head, sniffing at the King's hand, before taking a step forward and gently butting his head against Thorin's chest.

With a tiny curl of his lips, Thorin began stroking the horse's neck. "What's brought you here?" he asked in a low voice, watching as Firebrand's ears swivelled towards the sound. "Is it Alana? Do you know where she is?" Firebrand snorted, bobbing his head up and down, and then pawing at the ground again. Thorin's gaze hardened. "Will you show me?"

With another huff, Firebrand turned towards the crowd. Thorin realised then that the reason Firebrand had previously been so on edge was because his path to Alana was blocked by the sheer number of dwarves that had gathered around to watch the beast. When once again they parted, clearing away for the King and the mearas, Firebrand seemed much happier.

The horse was patient, keeping his pace slow enough that Thorin could easily keep up. He had considered - for a moment - trying to jump on the horse's back, so that they could reach her quicker. But a dwarf was not made to ride a full-sized horse, and he doubted Firebrand would want to carry him, anyway. He contented himself with this slower speed, knowing that he'd soon be back with Alana. He had just enough patience left for this.

Occasionally, the mearas paused, usually when deciding which path to take when the bridges and roads branched out before him. But, once a decision was made, Firebrand never went back on it.

At long last, after what felt like hours, they came across an old, plain wooden door with cast iron brackets and T-hinges, hidden away in the deep shadows of the mountain walls. It was the sort of door that you would only notice if you knew it was there, or if you were specifically looking for anything that might be hidden away.

Thorin backed up when Firebrand gave him a pointed look (which, considering this was a _horse_ , was a perplexing concept), and waited calmly as the mearas turned around, and then kicked sharply out at the door with his powerful back legs. The lock shattered, and the door swung open, slamming against the stone wall behind it with an echoing crash.

Without waiting for Thorin, Firebrand rushed inside. The King was quick to follow, barely being able to keep the mearas within his sights before the beast made a sudden turn to the right, disappearing swiftly from view.

"Firebrand!" came Alana's elated cry, followed by an enthusiastic cheer from whom Thorin could only assume was little Bambur. He appeared in the doorway, gazing upon the familiar, disused guardroom. Alana and Bambur were curled up against the wall, beaming up at the mearas, who had lowered his head so that they could pet him.

Bambur still looked relatively healthy, if not a little pale, with bags under his eyes. Alana, though, looked thin; sickly almost. Twelve days was a long time to go without proper meals, and Thorin very much doubted the two were being fed properly. He also wouldn't have put it past her to skip meals in order to make sure that Bambur was eating enough. He made a mental note to have a very stern conversation with her about that, if he found it to be the case.

Alana's eyes skipped past her horse, slamming to a halt on Thorin, still hovering in the entrance to the room. Her face lit up into a wide, tender smile; a smile he could feel himself mirroring. All the past two weeks' tension and worry faded away, leaving only overwhelming relief. "Thorin..." she breathed, before rushing to her feet and leaping at him.

Thorin caught her easily enough, noting to himself that yes, she felt much thinner and lighter than before. He didn't have long to think on it, however, as Alana's lips slammed down on his, and he felt all other thoughts being wiped from his head. He pulled her closer to him, feeling such a heartening warmth flowing through him that he feared to ever let go of her again.

"Ew!"

Alana and Thorin smiled against each other's lips at Bambur's exclamation. They pulled away with tangible reluctance and then looked over at the little dwarfling, finding him to be hiding behind one of Firebrand's legs with his hands over his eyes.

Thorin guided Alana's gaze back to him. "Who did this to you?" he asked, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Who dared to take you away from me?"

Alana sighed, her good mood evaporating in an instant. "Lord Boitu," she answered quietly.

In truth, Thorin couldn't believe his ears. Boitu was not a kind dwarf, and he was selfish to the bitter end, but he wasn't stupid. He would never do such a thing, unless the benefits were good enough. This couldn't be about marrying off his sister - that would not be reason enough to act in such a way, surely...

Then the anger and the rage kicked in, pushing aside his rationality. Regardless of his reasoning, Lord Boitu had attacked Alana while she was vulnerable, forcing him to spend twelve agonising days in a relentless search for her. Boitu had committed treason against the royal bloodline, and Thorin swore to himself that he would make sure that Boitu received his punishment in full. No excuses. No compromises.

The Lord would die for this.

"Come on," Alana said softly, breaking Thorin from his vengeful thoughts. "Let's go home."

He smiled again, banishing the thought of Boitu from his mind. That was a matter best left for a more appropriate time. "With pleasure, my Queen."


	19. In Need Of A Holiday

**A/N: Happy belated New Year! Sorry for the delay in this particular update, but the rest of them should be coming fairly frequently now, since my contract for my current job ends on Saturday. I hope you like this chapter! :) (P.S. Haven't had a chance to proof-read this, so sorry in advance for any typos...)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: Rhiyandra, CannonRebel, Hecate91, softgentle, Selene Tyler Smith and sakuravampire-aqua. :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **CrystalVixen93: Thanks, as always, and here ya go! :)**

 **MissCallaLilly: Heh, oh yes, the little ones can be smart too ;)**

 **Faron Oakenshield: It's weird to think you just said well done to a fictional horse... Thanks XD**

 **Sparky She-Demon: Dead dwarf walking...! XD I might use that one :P**

 **animexchick: Well, he probably has _some_ idea. Still, he knew the consequences should he get caught... ;)**

 **Dreamer4life16: Ooh, that sounds nice! Hopefully the weather in Dubai was better than it has been here recently (damn you Storm Eleanor!) Heh, it's alright, I forgot about him too for a while, and then I was like *le gasp* LIGHT BULB! You'll have to wait a little longer for the whole Boitu-getting-his-ass-handed-to-him thing, though - next chapter, methinks. This ones just a bit of filler/fluff. And hey, I finally have the wedding chapter(s) planned! So unless things change (which, let's be honest, they probably will), you've got only a few chapters to go :P Hope you enjoy, and thanks for reviewing! x**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: 'Smushy bits'... XD I feel like that wasn't as funny as I found it, but meh. I don't care. And yeah... You will wait... But it's on its way :)**

 **Rohirrim Girl 2187: Yeah, you're not the only one... *sweats* Still, they made it out. All is well :) You'll get to see the whole Boitu thing over the next chapter or two, but not this one. I need to give Alana a break from all the heavy stuff... ;) Hope you like!**

* * *

 **'Life has many ways of testing someone's will, either by having nothing happen at all or by having everything happen all at once.' ~ Paulo Coelho**

* * *

 **Chapter 19:**

The entire kingdom rejoiced over the news that Alana had finally been found. The reunion between Bambur and the rest of his family was witnessed by many, all of whom had gathered to see the return of the King and the horse that had led him to their Queen. Bombur had been close to tears, scooping up his youngest son on his arms and almost refusing to hand the boy over to his mother. Then all of Bambur's brothers, sisters, and uncles crowded around him, smothering him with their love and relief. Alana, too, was nearly suffocated by the sheer number of people who came to greet her. Aragorn came first, throwing his full weight against her and not letting go even when she was being given warm greetings by Gilraen and the rest of her very large extended family.

Alana moved away then to give a hearty thanks to Firebrand, who stayed long enough to ensure she was safe, before he gently butted her chest with his head, and then left the mountain. As she watched him leave, Alana could have sworn there was a sense of urgency about him that she hadn't noticed before.

Once they were given a free moment, Thorin and Alana headed to the privacy of the royal suites, Fili, Kili and Dís following swiftly behind. Aragorn came too, refusing to let her go, but Gilraen promised to send word of her return to Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel up in the guest quarter - apparently, Thorin had refused to let any of the visiting dwarves, elves, or men leave, just in case they were involved with the whole affair. There were many among them, no doubt, who would be more than happy to get back on the road, and back to their own homes.

The small group settled in the communal room of the royal quarter, Thorin refusing to let go of Alana's hand, and Aragorn still attached to her as well. In the end, the three of them ended up squashed together on a couch, while Fili, Kili and Dís settled in some of the other chairs.

For a while, no one could think of anything to say. Thorin tugged Alana to lean fully against him, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping his arm around her waist. Aragorn, in turn, lay against Alana's side, his hand gripping hers tightly enough that she began to lose the feeling in her fingers, but she didn't complain.

At length, Thorin exhaled noisily, and broke the silence. "It was Lord Boitu," he announced to the others.

Dís immediately cursed up a storm. "That fool," she hissed. "What could possibly cause him to act so irrationally?"

"Desperation." Alana's voice was muffled slightly, her face half-buried in the thick fabric of Thorin's clothes, but it rung clear in the quietness of the space. She turned her head so she could look directly at her family. "His desire for a higher social position has consumed him. Like... an obsession, almost. That said, I think he was too scared to kill me himself. He didn't want to risk having my blood on his hands. So he left me up at the top of the mountain to waste away. I don't think he intended to use Bambur, but the poor boy was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he got dragged into it."

"'Waste away'?" Kili echoed, furrowing his brows. "You mean he starved you?"

Alana shrugged. "It might have been his intention. I don't know for sure, though, because we were fed."

"By whom?" Dís asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Lady Bergni, his sister."

Thorin jerked underneath her, no doubt in surprise. "Bergni was part of this?"

"Against her will, I think," Alana was quick to add. She had watched Bergni closely over the past twelve days - the dwarrowdam seemed to be a very kind woman, but had been forced into a situation she disliked strongly. Her displeasure had frequently radiated off of her in near-tangible waves, and Alana truly believed that the meek dwarrowdam wanted no part in the whole affair, but didn't have the strength or courage to openly oppose her brother. Going in to see Bambur and Alana every day, to feed them, was a form of protest in its own right - so long as Alana's conclusions were correct.

Exhaling slowly, Thorin nodded. "It would go against everything I know of her, were she truly part of it. And I will admit that I am glad to hear that she has not changed to become such a foul character, as her brother has done."

Dís tilted her head to the side. "I thought you didn't like the Lady Bergni...?"

"I have no wish to marry her, and nor did I ever," Thorin corrected her calmly. "But I do not dislike her. Unlike Lady Olva, she is a kind dam, and certainly far more tolerable to have as company."

"Lady Olva?" Alana echoed.

"Lord Venrik's daughter," came the simple reply, and she nodded in understanding.

Fili leaned back in his chair, his face like ice. He had been silent throughout their conversation, never showing any kind of reaction to any of the words being spoken around him. He remained impassive to everything. So hearing his voice now, cold and unfeeling, was something of a shock. "So what do we do?"

"The punishment for treason is as it always was," Thorin told him simply, noting with a slight furrow of his brows how Alana stiffened at the implication behind his words. He was about to call her out on it, but Fili spoke up a second time before he had the chance.

"And Lady Bergni? She is partially involved in this."

Alana sat up, eyes wide, her arm clamping around Aragorn so he wasn't too badly jolted by her move. "No," she said firmly, but with a hint of desperation. "Bergni had no way of fighting back; she was as powerless as Bambur and I." She shook her head. "Please, do not punish her for her brother's crimes."

Thorin sighed. "Alana, the law is explicit. Any who commit treason, or are accomplices to those that do, are to be sentenced to death."

Alana shook her head. "I will not allow her life to be ended for this."

"It is the law," Dís murmured softly. "You have no choice, _**namad**_."

Alana's face darkened. "So you would condemn a helpless dwarrowdam to death because she was weak? Because she couldn't fight back against someone else's wrongdoings? _Lá faila si, (This is not justice,)_ " she snarled, morphing into Quenya without realising.

"Alana does have a point," Kili admitted quietly, almost as if scared to speak up against his mother and uncle. "I know it looks bad, but if Alana is so adamant about Bergni being as close to innocent as she could be, given the circumstances, I think we should trust her word. What would we become if we were to kill an innocent woman?" He shook his head, exhaling heavily. "Look, whatever it is we decide to do in the end, I don't think we should be making that decision right now." His warm eyes met Alana's, and he gave her a gentle smile. "We've only just got Alana back. Let's celebrate that first, before we talk any more of death and punishment."

Thorin and Dís exchanged glances, both of them wondering just when Kili had become the grown dwarf that he was now. In their eyes, they still saw him as the little dwarfling who would almost always have mud on his clothes and in his hair, swinging around a stick as if it were a sword, battling imaginary foes. Even during the quest for Erebor, Kili was still prone to bouts of recklessness and general childishness. That wasn't to say the others were completely innocent of such things, but the youngest of Dís' sons certainly showed it the most. His near-death at the hands of the wolves by Beorn's home was proof enough of that.

Alana, too, had noticed the change in the young Prince. She had her own suspicions over what the cause of that might be - Kili had taken on a lot of responsibility as a Prince, yes, but he'd also become Aragorn's older brother, in a way. Kili had been spending as much time with the boy as Alana had recently, and she knew the two of them had a very special relationship with one another. Being responsible for someone in that way needed a certain amount of development, and she believed that Kili's new-found maturity was a result of this.

A frown was quick to cross her features, and her eyes sought out Fili's. It saddened her to suddenly realise that Fili wasn't getting these same moments of freedom as his brother. While Kili went hunting in the forest with Alana and Aragorn, Fili was in the mountain, learning how to be King one day. The blonde Prince didn't get the chance to be with his family very often - or at least, not in an unprofessional way. Of course, the rest of them all had their duties, but they were neither as difficult nor as numerous. Fili had almost as many duties to fulfil each day as Thorin.

Frankly, they all deserved a day off.

While Thorin was pondering Kili's suggestion, Alana gently nudged him to draw his attention. She then murmured quietly to him of her suggestion, keeping her voice low so the others wouldn't hear. She didn't have a problem with them knowing about it, but she wanted to make sure Thorin was happy with the decision, rather than being pressured into it by his family (she was sure they would agree with her).

Thorin's brows furrowed as he considered. The same arguments he made to Dís when she suggested he spend a day alone with Alana were ringing in his head, but they had less impact this time. Besides, this was different. Before, Alana had just been busy, and so she and Thorin hadn't had the chance to talk much beyond business. This time, she had been physically taken away from him. He'd seen neither hair nor hide of her for almost two weeks - the longest stretch since they'd first met.

Glancing down, Thorin found himself inexplicably captured by her eyes. The vibrant blue he was used to was duller than he remembered, her eyelids heavier and her skin beneath a bruised shade of purple that spoke of many restless nights. His hand rose up to cup her cheek, her skin feeling cold against his hand. Still, she smiled the same smile as always, leaning into his touch and letting out a quiet sigh.

He felt himself nodding. "Okay," he said at length. Her eyes opened again, with a sense of lethargy that only made him more sure of his decision. She needed a chance to relax and recuperate, before being thrown into her life again. "We'll do it."

Alana's entire face lit up, some of that spark returning instantly to her eyes. "Really?" she asked, hardly daring to believe it.

Thorin chuckled, a warm, low sound that resonated straight to Alana's chest. "Really. You're right; we do deserve it."

"Would either of you mind telling us exactly _what_ is so secret?" Dís cut in, narrowing her eyes accusingly at the pair.

Alana grinned at her future sister-in-law. "How do you all feel about a little holiday?"

* * *

Thorin was quick to disappear after that, going to meet with the appropriate people to arrange that the entirety of the royal family (and the rest of the company, because it wouldn't truly be a proper day out without all their friends and family there) could be free of their duties for a day. He had said it would not be arranged especially quickly - unfortunately, such things were made vastly more complicated when you were a ruling monarch of an entire mountain kingdom. Still, this didn't dishearten Alana in the slightest.

While he did that, Dís and Alana headed towards the guest quarter, saying official goodbyes to the envoys of Rohan, Gondor, and Mirkwood - all of whom were more than eager to get back to their own kingdoms, after the serious delay. The elves of Rivendell and Lothlórien, the dwarves from the Iron Hills, and the men of Dale opted to stay a little longer - the former two because they were waiting to greet Alana, the dwarves because the time was so close for the royal wedding, and the latter due to the short amount of travelling that would be necessary for them to return home.

Dís was polite to the elves, though it was clear she wasn't particularly comfortable in their presence. Though not as bad as many of the dwarves in the mountain, Dís still felt a little scorn towards the elven race - something that she was able to hide it admirably well. Elladan and Elrohir were rather enthusiastic as they greeted Alana, foregoing the customs of their own people and instead embracing those of the race of men - throwing their arms around her into a brotherly hug, causing Alana to start laughing as she hugged them back. Her laughter, though, was tinged with sorrow - she knew it wouldn't be long before they left, and it would likely be many years before she was able to see her brothers again.

Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel were much more composed as they greeted her, expressing their gladness of her being safe and back where she belonged - though they equally were both concerned for her well-being, after seeing how pale and thin she had grown in the last few days. Alana assured them heartily that she would be back to normal in no time, especially with such a large and protective family stopping her from straining herself and giving her larger-than-normal portions of food until she filled out a little.

After their visit to their friends, they returned to the royal quarter. Though Alana repeatedly insisted that she needed to catch up on the work she'd missed (she had overheard from one of the traders within the mountain that her duties had been almost entirely neglected in her absence), Dís was adamant that she not do anything work-related until they'd all had their day off.

When Alana pointed out that it could be weeks before they got permission to do that, Dís happily responded by saying, "Then it'll be weeks before you get back to work."

The Ranger found that in equal parts endearing and irritating.

In the end, the two of them wandered towards the training area, following the sounds of what seemed to be a rather heated battle between genuine foes. Alana was pleasantly surprised to come across the sight of Makalyen and Dwalin leaping and jumping across almost the entire training floor, getting so into their spar that the others groups and pairs who'd previously been training had been forced to move to the edges of the training ground, so as to be beyond the far-reaching swing of Dwalin's axes or Makalyen's scythe. The young dwarrowdam moved like a hurricane, her amber hair flaring out behind her as she moved, and it almost looked as if she was being trailed by a wave of flames. She was clearly a skilled warrior, though her technique was a little rough around the edges, and her general footwork could do with some improvement. Still, the hooked end of her weapon, along with the long handle, meant Dwalin was struggling to remain out of the reach of her blade. Since he himself used much more short-range weapons, he had to time his attacks to perfection, so he could get close enough to force her to either dodge or block his move, while in the meantime attacking from such a place that she couldn't instantly catch him with her weapon.

The spar came to a brutal end when Dwalin knocked her back with his elbow, using her startled unsteadiness to knock her feet out from underneath her. Makaylen landed hard on the stone floor, letting out a whoosh of air from her lungs and wincing, before her face cleared and she grinned up at her trainer.

"See?" she stated pointedly, clearly continuing an earlier conversation. "I told you I could last longer than five minutes this time."

Dwalin grunted, sheathing his axes and then offering her a hand up. She accepted it without a second of hesitation, clearly not bothered by the fact he'd beaten her. Dwalin clapped her on the back, a flash of respect in his eyes. "You did good, lassie. We'll make a formidable warrior of you yet."

Makaylen grinned at him. "Glad to hear it." That was the moment that Makalyen turned and finally caught sight of Dís and Alana standing in the doorway, the former looking mildly surprised, while Alana just had a beaming grin on her face. Makaylen was quick to mirror it. "Lady Alana!" she called, bounding up towards the woman. "It's great to see you again."

"Likewise," Alana replied with a smile. "Though, what have I told you about calling me 'Lady'?"

Makaylen shrugged. "It's not like it'll kill you to hear it every once in a while."

Alana huffed. "You're so stubborn," she grumbled, with a fond undertone to her words.

Smirking, Makaylen nodded. "Damn right. I wouldn't be a dwarf if I wasn't."

Alana agreed with a chuckle. "Truer words have never been spoken."

"If I didn't know better," Dís began, eyeing Dwalin with a broad grin on her face, "I'd say you almost liked her."

Dwalin rolled his eyes. "She works hard," he stated simply. "She doesn't complain, she doesn't give up, and she's making good progress. After having to teach your boys, believe me when I say it's a blessing."

"Oh, they couldn't have been _that_ bad," Makaylen piped up with a smile.

Dwalin scoffed. "You didn't know 'em when they were younger, lassie. Each of them was a nightmare of legs on their own, but when they were together..." He shook his head. "I still blame those two completely on the fact I am prematurely grey haired."

"Spending so much time with Thorin in addition to training the boys couldn't have helped," Alana quipped, grinning. "I know how frustrating he can be."

Dís huffed, feigning insult. "Must you say such things about my brother and sons?"

"Hey, your sons are my nephews," Alana pointed out. "By _choice._ I've _chosen_ to marry your brother, remember?"

"And to this day, no one understands why," Dwalin teased, grinning crookedly when Alana rolled her eyes. "Because you're right, he's a frustratingly proud and stubborn git."

"Well, sure," Alana allowed with a laugh. "But am I not that same, sometimes? Besides, these things aside, he's also very intelligent, brave (almost to the point of stupidity), and probably more noble than is actually good for him." She shrugged. "My point is, he, like everyone, is an amalgamation of good things and bad things. I just don't care enough about the bad to let them dampen the good."

"What does it feel like?" Makaylen suddenly piped up, her voice rather timid by comparison to the usual confidence she exuded. "Being in love; how does it feel?"

Dwalin cleared his throat before either Alana or Dís could answer. "I think this is my cue to leave," he grumbled, before spinning on his heel and stomping away.

Dís chuckled fondly. "He never was good at talking about emotions," she murmured, before turning her attention back to Makaylen. "Why do you ask?"

Makaylen shrugged. "Because it's written all over your face," she replied cautiously, nodding at Alana, whose eyebrows were raised in mild surprise. "I just wondered..."

"It's not simple enough to be explained, Makaylen," Alana answered softly, Dís nodding along beside her. "It's too complicated and... fickle. I find it extremely hard to imagine that love is the same for everyone who experiences it."

"There are some things that don't tend to change, though," Dís piped up, smiling fondly at the young dam. In the past few days, she'd had a few encounters with the strange young woman before her, and she found herself liking Makaylen's boisterous behaviour. "You always want to be in their company."

"You feel happiest when they're smiling or laughing," added Alana.

"And your heart tends to leap into your throat when they get close to you. At the beginning, anyway."

"After a bit more time, things become more comfortable." Alana's face became thoughtful. "You don't feel like your body is going to burst from how active it is... but it's warm. Always warm, and you feel safe and treasured; like you never want to leave their side."

Dís was nodding again. "But sometimes it's different. Some people grow more confident in themselves, others are shy and quiet."

"For some people, at least at first, it's the most terrifying thing in the world." Alana smiled kindly down at Makaylen, whose wide eyes gave away just how overwhelmed she was. "Others simply embrace it."

"And," Dís began again, mirroring Alana's smile, "there are those who know what it is instantly. I know did."

"Whereas it took me ages to realise I loved Thorin," Alana admitted with a chuckle. "But once I did, I wondered how I could have ever been blind to it." She became thoughtful once more. "I suppose the best way to put it is... you can't possibly know how it's going to feel until you feel it. But when you do, nothing feels better than learning that they love you in return."

"And if they don't?" Makaylen inquired quietly. "If your love is unrequited?"

Dís and Alana glanced at each other, before the dwarrowdam sucked in a grounding breath and admitted, "It hurts. While I knew at once... it took months for my One to realise he loved me too. Those months were horrible. The wondering, the waiting, the constant doubt and fear. But it was all worth it in the end. A few months of pain gave way to many years of unmeasurable happiness. I wouldn't change it for the world."

Makaylen nodded slowly, biting her lip.

"Why do you want to know, anyway?" Alana questioned. "Are you...?"

"No!" Makaylen seemed alarmed at the thought, her eyes widening and her skin becoming pale. "No, not at all. I was just... curious, I suppose."

"And you thought it better to ask us, rather than your mother?"

Makaylen sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "My mother is... well, she's my mother. It's different. I feel weird talking about these things with her, and I think it's a mutual thing. Besides, I know she hasn't healed from _**adad**_ 's death yet."

Dís smiled sadly. "She never will, little one. Not completely." She placed a hand on Makaylen's shoulder, the younger dwarrowdam appearing startled. "Just stay with her. Help her. Be there for her, even when you don't think she needs you there. Because, believe me, she does. Right now, she needs you more than ever. Do not let her forget that she still has you, okay?"

Nodding, the amber haired dwarrowdam quietly thanked the two, before leaving the training area with a thoughtful expression, and her bottom lip between her teeth.

Alana turned to Dís curiously. "I didn't know you were on such close terms with Makaylen."

Dís chuckled. "There are many things that have changed over the last two weeks, Alana. Makaylen is almost a part of our family now."

Alana blinked. "What?"

"Oh yes," Dís stated flippantly. "She and Kili have grown to become very good friends."

That didn't help to lower Alana's complete bafflement. "What?"

"If I had to make a judgement," Dís added, "I'd almost say Makaylen's questioning was because she is starting to develop feelings for my son that are more than just platonic."

"Wait, what?!"


	20. Judgement Day

**A/N: A slightly shorter chapter this time, but hey, at least it's on time (hurrah, first time in like a month!) Thank you all SO much for you patience and support, and of course all your lovely, lovely comments! I don't tend to ask outright for them, but they're more than welcome *nudge nudge wink wink* Haha. Seriously though, thanks to all of you for keeping up with this, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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 **MissCallaLilly: Haha, don't worry, that'll be brought up again in more depth, in time ;)**

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 **ro781727: Wow, I swear those were exact thought that ran through my head when I was planning these chapters... huh... :)**

 **CrystalVixen93: Thanks as always, and here y'are!**

* * *

 **'I believe in justice, and I believe in people being held responsible for their actions.' ~ Bruce Willis**

* * *

 **Chapter 20:**

Dawn the next morning brought with it a sombre atmosphere, one thick with tension and anticipation. Lord Boitu and Lady Bergni were brought before the council, the company, and a few trusted family friends as well. To say people were shocked to see Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond there as well would be an understatement, but after a pointed look from Thorin, no one dared to complain. The two elves had hard, cold eyes as they looked down at the disgraced Lord and Lady, but were otherwise emotionless, keeping their expressions devoid of all feeling.

Thorin sat before the two of them, a blank mask hiding a maelstrom of emotions. Alana was stood beside him, a slight frown touching at her lips. She had no idea what was going to happen here - this decision was entirely Thorin's to make, and she had a feeling she knew which route he would choose. She only hoped he would have just enough mercy in his heart not to kill Lady Bergni, because Alana truly did believe that the poor dwarrowdam had been forced to act against her will.

Once everyone was still and settled, Thorin rose from his seat, moving to stand in front of the two disgraced nobles. Bergni had bowed her head in submission, while Boitu was glaring balefully up at the King he had once been so unfalteringly loyal to.

"Lord Boitu, Lady Bergni, you stand accused of the attempted murder and kidnapping of the Lady Alana, and of the youngest son of a respected member of my company. Before you may say anything in your defence, let the rest of this council know the full extent of your treachery: you entered the Lady's chambers in the dead of night, lighting her fire and closing the damper so that the room would fill with smoke. While Lady Alana survived, she came away from the attack severely hurt and weakened."

Behind him, Alana grimaced. While everything Thorin said was true, she still hated the thought of being seen as such a vulnerable person. As if sensing her distaste, Kili glanced over at her from his position to her immediate right, and raised an eyebrow her way - as if to challenge whether she really needed to react like that. Alana rolled her eyes.

Thorin continued. "After some time in the healing house, having yet to return to full strength, Lady Alana was visited by the son of Bombur. Shortly after him, you two arrived. Threatening both Alana's life and Bambur's, you forced them up into the highest levels of the mountain, and kept them from being able to return. You held them in the western guardroom - against their will - for twelve days." Thorin paused, sneering down at the two knelt in front of him. "Do you have any words to say in your defence?"

Boitu's eyes hardened. "You accuse me of crimes I have not committed."

Thorin bared his teeth. "The word of the Queen has a lot of weight behind it; certainly more than yours. If she says you have done these things, then I choose to believe her over you."

Scoffing, Boitu shook his head. "I did not attack the so-called future Queen. I worked out a plan and acted upon it only _after_ learning that she was in a vulnerable state. I have never once entered her chambers, nor even the royal quarter."

Thorin cocked an eyebrow. "Perhaps not you yourself," he allowed with a cold voice. "Yet we have evidence to suggest that the attacker was a woman." His stormy eyes shifted over to Bergni. "Will you also deny any involvement in this, Lady Bergni?"

Bergni gulped, but then slowly nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

Alana stared at the two in shock. Of course, there was every possibility that the siblings were lying through their teeth, but... she felt like they were being honest. Boitu had never denied that he'd kidnapped the two of them, only that he had attacked her. And Bergni's nature meant that lying wouldn't be something she was especially comfortable with - she was naturally very submissive, so a single order would probably have her caving and giving the truth. Unless she was so good at playing the role of a shy, docile dwarrowdam that she had fooled even her brother, she was more than likely being completely honest with them.

But if that was the case... who had attacked her?

King Bard, who had insisted on being a part of this council (being not only the ruler of Erebor's closest allied kingdom, but also a personal friend of both the King and future Queen), stepped forward. "And yet you do not deny the accusations against you that you took the Queen against her will, along with a young child!"

Boitu sneered. "That wench will never be Queen!" His eyes flashed with disgust, and he turned to address her head-on. " _ ** _ **Nimthurul me ra rukhs, zânami rukhs, a**_ ** _brâfu shaikmashâz_**! (Between you and an orc, I would kiss an orc, you descendant of rats!)**_"

" _ **Harkulu! (Enough!)**_ " Thorin barked, his eyes dark with a dangerous fury. "Do not dare to _ever_ insult her in my presence again."

Spitting on the floor, Boitu grinned, a wide, crazed grin that had uncomfortable shivers running down Alana's spine. "I deny nothing," the dwarf said at last. "I would do it again without hesitation! The line of Durin has fallen far indeed, to allow such a filthy creature to take the throne of Erebor. _**A'l **âj****_ ** _u Mahal. (You shame Mahal.)_** "

"Whatever Mahal thinks of my actions, he may tell me himself on the day of my death," Thorin stated coldly, though Alana flinched at the words. His death was _not_ something she wanted to think about. Ever. Thorin continued speaking, forcing Alana to move her attention back to the matter at hand. "The opinions of our Maker are not to be judged by the likes of you."

"So kill me," Boitu spat, black eyes hard. "But I am not the only one who believes these things." He smirked. "I never attacked your precious One. Neither did my sister. That was someone else's doing, which means you have another enemy on your hands, and probably hundreds more after that. It's a long line, _your Highness_ , and I'm just glad I was able to be closer to the front."

"The people love Alana," Fili cut in, his normally warm eyes now cold and fierce. Alana could have sworn they had become lighter in colour, too, and so now resembled ice more closely than before. "But even the greatest Kings of our past had opposition. You cannot show your true worth until someone challenges you. Alana survived this, and she'll be stronger and wiser because of it."

Boitu gritted his teeth. "If things had just gone the way they were _supposed to_..." He shot a heated glare at his sister, who let out a nearly inaudible squeak and hid behind a curtain of hair, so she wouldn't have to look at her brother's face.

"Your sister is the only reason that Alana and Bambur survived as well as they did," Thorin said coldly. "But _you_... you intended to let her starve up there, along with a dwarfling who is a mere ten years old!" He drew himself up to his full height, which - for a dwarf - was impressive. "Lord Boitu, son of Barinur, I hereby charge you with the crime of treason. You and the other members of your immediate family will be stripped of any status currently held, and at dawn tomorrow, you will be disgraced before the eyes of the kingdom, and executed. Your property and money will be passed on to another loyal family who deserves it far more than you ever did. Let your punishment be a lesson to all others who wish harm upon my family." With a flippant wave of his hand, two guards stepped forward and caught Boitu under the arms, hauling him away to spend his last day alive in the dungeons, deep in the heart of the mountain.

Thorin turned then to Bergni, who cowered under the oppressive weight of his stare. "It is your punishment, Bergni, daughter of Barinur, that remains - so far - undecided."

"Why should she get anything less than that spineless orc-lover?!" Dwalin growled, stepping forward with a deep frown on his face. Bergni whimpered and flinched back from him, as if expecting to be physically struck. Alana narrowed her eyes at this.

Thorin glanced at his life-long friend and explained patiently, "Lady Bergni went against the orders of her brother, bringing Bambur and Alana enough food and water to keep them alive."

"I didn't mean harm," Bergni spoke up, her voice quivering with the full force of her terror. "I didn't want to do it, but Boitu... he threatened Cardac, your Majesty."

"Cardac?" Kili questioned, confusion and surprise thick in his voice.

"He's a miner," Alana murmured absently, frowning. Everyone turned to face her. "He was one of the ones caught in the collapse." She tilted her head to the side. "Why would a threat against him mean so much to you?"

Flushing with what Alana perceived to be shame, Bergni lowered her eyes back down to the floor and admitted quietly, "He's my One. And, in truth, my Queen, I believe I am his, too." She bit her lip. "When my brother found out, he... flew into a rage. He was furious I had chosen someone of such... common status. And he swore that if he ever caught sight of me with him again, he'd not only kill him, but would disgrace me, too. He would disown me from my own family." She shook her head. "I couldn't bear the thought of him being harmed, so I just... let it happen. I'm sorry, my Queen, truly I am. I am _so_ sorry. But I would not do differently if presented with the same choices a second time." Bergni lifted her head, her eyes red and watery, but her expression was firm and determined. "I love him, my Queen. More than anything. And I would do _anything_ to keep him safe."

Silence followed this impassioned confession. No one knew what to say. Thorin's dark expression had softened almost imperceptibly, and when Alana's eyes met his, she knew he was thinking the same thing that she was; that this was a feeling they both knew well. A love so strong was precious, doubly so with the dwarven race starting to decline in its numbers. But was it enough? Bergni had just openly admitted that she did not regret her actions, though not due to any desire to hurt Alana. She had also risked both herself and Cardac to make sure Bambur and Alana were healthy enough that they could survive until they were found. The consequences had she been caught would have been damning, but she had chosen to continue to go behind her brother's back anyway.

The dwarf King turned to Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel, both of whom had so far been silent, simply observing and keeping their thoughts unvoiced. "Do you have anything you wish to ask, my Lord, my Lady?" Thorin asked, his voice polite, though still a little curt. He was doing an excellent job at masking his fervent distrust of elfkind, and Alana believed there was a good chance he was actually beginning to look past his previous prejudice, and finally see that not all elves were the same.

"Just one thing," Lord Elrond began, meeting the eyes of the somewhat baffled dwarrowdam still knelt on the floor. "By the words you spoke, you suggested you favoured a life with your One over being a noblewoman. Am I right?"

Bergni nodded vigorously. "Yes, my Lord. I have no desire to let station corrupt me, like it did my brother. I just want to be with my One. That's all."

Lord Elrond nodded, falling silent once more. Lady Galadriel, after staring at Bergni for a second or two longer, stepped forward. Everyone watched with bated breath as she approached Thorin, leaning down and then murmuring something into his ear. Alana knew that there was nothing blocking Thorin's mind from her thoughts - Galadriel's power was far beyond that. But Alana knew that Thorin would feel violated were she to speak into his mind, and it seemed that Galadriel recognised this too, and thus chose instead to talk to the King directly.

Everyone was quiet as they watched the one-sided interaction, Thorin's tiny changes of expression being the only insight to what he was being told. Whatever it was, it was clearly intended to make him think long and hard, as his face was fixed into one of contemplation when Galadriel returned at last to her position beside Lord Elrond.

And think he did. For over a minute, the entire room was silent, waiting for Thorin to make his final decision. At length, Thorin moved over towards Dori, Nori and Ori, pulling the oldest and youngest aside to talk quietly with them. There were several nods and shrugs, the occasional shake of the head, and then the conversation was over. Whatever was being discussed, it had presented no serious problems with the Ri brothers.

Returning to his place in front of Bergni, Thorin quietly ordered that she stand. Utterly bewildered, Bergni did so, her hands clasped tightly together in front of her. There was a slight tremble to her figure, and Alana knew she was more terrified of the outcome of this than she had originally let on.

"With the evidence before me, I have come to a decision," Thorin announced, and Bergni's shaking became more prevalent. "You, like your brother, will be stripped of your title as a woman of noble birth. Though it seems clear that your intentions were not malicious, the fact remains that you were an accomplice to treason, and that cannot go unpunished." He paused, and in that time, Bergni bowed her, clearly resigned to her fate. "However," Thorin began again, and the dam's head snapped back up, her eyes wide and her mouth agape as surprised flashed across her face, "at your own personal risk, it is thanks to you that my Queen is still alive, and the young boy whom was imprisoned alongside her. For this, you shall retain your dignity. You will learn from Dori how to maintain a business, and you will be one of the official tailors of this kingdom. Anything you do not know about this art, he will teach you. Every Saturday, you will work with Ori in the royal library, keeping things neat and clean, and ensuring that all of Erebor's documents are undamaged and up to date. Sundays you will have to yourself, to do as you wish." He voice softened then, and he stepped closer to the utterly stunned dwarrowdam. "I cannot yet forgive you for what you have done," he admitted, "but I will not punish you for acting on the will of your heart. Not when I too am guilty of such a thing. Keep your One in your heart and mind, and so long as you do not step out of line again, you will face no further consequences." Bergni's eyes watered as she stared at him. Thorin glanced back at Alana, whose eyes were also shining with unshed tears, and her face was lit up by a proud smile. He exchanged with her a look of intense emotion and love, before turning back to Bergni. "Go. Be with your One. And let us never again talk of what happened here."

Bergni nodded shakily. "Y-Yes, o-of course." She bobbed into a shaky curtsy. "Thank you, my King. Thank you so much. I-I will not make you regret this, I swear it."

Thorin nodded. "See that you do not."

And with another wave of his hands, more guards stepped forward. Instead of being dragged bodily from the room, Bergni was merely escorted, and though her head was held high, her frame still trembled. The doors closed with an echoing click, and the room was silent for a long time.

"I must admit," Kili spoke up, causing all eyes to fly his way, "that was unexpected."

"There was no need to punish her more than she has already been punished by living with her brother for so long," Thorin stated calmly. "Given the circumstances, she deserved the mercy I offered. I think she will make a good life for herself, and so long as she is with her One, she will be happy."

"She is still losing her brother," Dís stated softly, giving her own brother a significant look. "That will not be easy for her, no matter how sour their relationship has grown to be."

Balin spoke up then. "The law is clear. Nothing except absolute proof would have cleared his name, and thus saved his life. He knew the consequences of his choices. Now he must follow them through."

Bard nodded solemnly. "I agree with your choices, King Thorin," he stated, bowing politely to the dwarf, who bowed in return. "And I am glad - as you are, I'm sure - to put this mess far behind us. Hopefully now we will be able to move forward into a time of peace and prosperity."

"Not to mention your wedding is now only a week away," Dís grumbled. "You're just lucky we didn't pause the planning while Alana was missing. Otherwise it would be chaos."

"True," Gilraen piped up, making Alana jump. She hadn't noticed her mother enter the room, and by the reactions of the others (except the elves), they hadn't either. "But despite that, we are still behind." She smiled fondly at her daughter, though there was a hint of something else that made Alana narrow her eyes suspiciously at her mother. "You have a busy few days ahead of you, _pinig_."

Alana fought back a sigh, knowing that those 'busy few days' would probably mostly be having her dressed up over and over again by Dís and Gilraen, until they were both satisfied. And since she wasn't actually allowed to see her dress before the wedding (Gilraen had been insistent on keeping that particular tradition of men in place), she'd have to do the whole thing blindfolded. Probably literally.

Then her eyes met Thorin's, and excitement took over. She was getting married to this dwarf, whom she loved above all others in the world, in a _week_. It was _finally_ time.

So with a smile on her lips, Alana faced her mother again and stated calmly, "I look forward to it."


	21. The Execution Of Justice

**A/N: Hello again! A bit late once more, and sorry for that, but I was busy yesterday planning my summer...! Train trip around Europe, it's gonna be awesome. Anywho, hope you like this chapter!**

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* * *

 **'Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.' - Ralph Waldo Emerson**

* * *

 **Chapter 21:**

The next morning, as had been declared by the King, Lord Boitu was brought before the eyes of the kingdom to be executed. Alana had been genuinely shocked to see so many people turn up to witness his death, and had been even more horrified to learn that they were required by law to do so, unless they were below 60 - the age at which they were considered adults of dwarfkind. When Alana asked why they would force people to watch someone having their head cut off, Balin simply explained that it was for further security - it acted as a deterrent for those who might previously have considered committing the same crime. In her head, she admitted that it would have worked for her, but she still thought that forcing people to witness such a gruesome scene was perhaps a little extreme.

In order to avoid the chance of him being harmed or threatened by those who were fond of Lord Boitu, the executioner's face and hair were hidden away. Anything that could be used to put a name to him was covered. Alana knew who he was, of course, and so did Thorin. But they were the only two in the entire kingdom who knew of his identity (except, perhaps, his wife, if he had dared to tell her). Alana almost pitied him for being picked for this job, but he had stated calmly that it was his duty, and that the nature of the job would not make him turn down a request from the King himself. She had complimented him for his loyalty, and later convinced Thorin to give him a little more than his share of gold as a reward for that. She knew she couldn't make such exceptions for everyone, but she hoped that this would be the only occasion where she thought such things were necessary.

Dwalin had been chosen - much to his obvious delight - to be the one to disgrace the Lord. To the dwarven race, nothing held more value than their hair and beards. Even Alana felt a shudder run down her spine as Dwalin quickly and carelessly cut off the braids Boitu wore that marked him not only as a Lord, but also as a member of the Firebeard tribe. Next came his beard, being cut until his face was almost completely smooth. His hair was the last to go, the locks falling at the disgraced Lord's feet. Strangely, though he was not gagged, Boitu said nothing the whole time.

He had met Alana's eyes the moment he stepped foot in the room and glared heatedly at her. She had returned the glare for a few seconds, before a mask of aloofness swept over her, and she then ignored his probing gaze for the remainder of this... event. He was no longer of any consequence to her.

Beside her stood Lady Bergni. Since she felt little to no ill will towards the meek dwarrowdam, Alana had no qualms against allowing the woman to stand beside her, and even endeavoured to offer a supporting hand if the dam looked like she needed it. But there was no sign of such a thing being required - Bergni was silent and ashen in the face, but her eyes were hard, not sorrowful. Perhaps the sorrow would come later, but for now, Bergni did not mourn the loss of her brother.

When the axe fell, the vast majority of those present turned their heads reflexively. Alana forced herself to watch. It wasn't pleasant, by any means, but her accusations were what had put Lord Boitu in this position. She would not shy away from the consequences of her actions.

Even so, when the crowd began to disperse, Alana closed her eyes and bowed her head, murmuring an elven prayer under her breath.

" _Hiro hon hîdh ab 'wanath._ "

May he find peace after death.

* * *

As expected, the week that followed was pure chaos. And yet, despite that, Alana loved every minute of it. She was being pulled left and right, back and forth, jumping between tailors and jewellers and blacksmiths, and yet with none of the pressures of decision-making. She quite liked this arrangement.

There were moments, however, when she thought they'd taken things a little too far.

When she was being fitted for her wedding dress, Alana had been forced to wear a blindfold over her eyes (as she had rather jokingly predicted), so that she couldn't see her dress. Despite the fact this particular visit was just for certain colours and fabrics to be picked, and her measurements to be taken, both Dís and the seamstress from Dale - a charming middle-aged woman called Lynda - had insisted that the reveal of the dress on her wedding day was to be a _complete_ surprise. Which meant no sneak previews.

Still, that didn't mean she was devoid of things to do - she and Thorin were still in charge of the guest list, though due to the short-notice nature of their wedding, they had to be pragmatic about who they could and could not invite.

Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond were both invited, though the Lady sent back word that she was unable to make it, as she had been absent from the Golden Wood too long now. Elrond and his family were happy to stay an extra week, and accepted graciously. Dain and his men were invited, of course, and they had replied back by saying - in more brusque terms - that it was stupid to believe for even a moment that they wouldn't be there.

The worst had been Thranduil. Thorin had been adamant that the elven King stay as far away from the kingdom as possible, especially since he had 'just managed to get rid of the bastard'. Alana glared at him for saying that, before arguing that trade and good relations with the elven kingdom were paramount for a successful and bountiful rule. Even Thror had bowed to this wisdom in his time, creating an amiable (if not tense) relationship with Thranduil that benefited both kingdoms. It took time to wear him down, but, in the end, Thorin agreed - somewhat reluctantly - to send an invitation to the Woodland Realm as well.

Everyone continued to keep a very close eye on Alana as the day of the wedding drew steadily closer, though they were thankfully not overbearing about it. They ensured she was eating enough, and Dwalin dragged her into the training ground at least once a day to make sure she could build back up any muscular strength she had lost. She was quite touched by their efforts, all things considered, and she enjoyed having the chance to spar with someone a little closer to her skill (that wasn't to say that she didn't enjoy training with Aragorn, but he still had a long way to go, and there wasn't much of a challenge in having him as an opponent).

As the days drew nearer and nearer to the big day, Alana began to grow nervous. She wasn't by any means regretting her choice, but she became quite suddenly aware that this marriage would be forever. It would be final. She would be tying herself over to Thorin, and his family, and his kingdom, and she could never go back and change her mind.

Her nerves all but dissipated when she had wandered into the royal quarters that very same evening, and had witnessed a cheerful dinner between the reunited company members (and all their families, so it was a big group). She saw Thorin sat there with a relaxed spine and a crooked grin on his face, which widened noticeably when he realised she had appeared. Dropping down beside him, Alana planted a quick but fervent kiss onto his lips, her previous concerns a distant memory.

With planning going on on either side - with Thorin still organising their day out, and Dís and the boys busy with the wedding preparations - Alana was left with little else to do but keep up her training. She had begun to help Dwalin in the training area, teaching the upcoming and eager warriors of the next generation. Makaylen was amongst that group and, so far, had proven herself to be one of the best. She had her faults, and these would never fail to be pointed out to her, but she had a very steep learning curve. Sometimes it would take as little as an hour to smooth out some of the wrinkles in her technique.

After her conversation with Dís, Alana also made a note to secretly watch Kili and Makaylen whenever they interacted. The two seemed to get on extraordinarily well, as Dís had mentioned, though Alana thought that the dwarrowdam was perhaps getting a little ahead of herself with the assumption that Makaylen was looking for something more than friendship with the brunette Prince.

Two days before the wedding, after Alana had been to test the size and shape of her now completed wedding dress (blindfolded again), she wandered into her room to find Thorin already there, sitting comfortably in one of the armchairs she had moved closer to the hearth. The fire was lit and burning away, letting out the occasional crackle and pop.

Thorin didn't seem to notice her come in, too lost in thought. As she drew nearer, Alana allowed her eyes to roam over his figure. As was often the case at this time of night, Thorin had discarded his thick, heavy coat and fancy clothing, leaving just a plain pair of breeches and a thin tunic. Alana was particularly fond of this look, not only because it meant he was comfortable enough around her to allow her to see him with so little on, but also because the gaping neckline of said tunic provided her with a generous view of his chest.

With a coy smile tugging at her lips, Alana paused behind the chair and placed her hands gently on his shoulders. Thorin jerked, surprised, before he tilted his head up and offered her a heart-melting smile. Alana moved onto her knees, wrapping her arms more firmly around his torso and then resting her chin on his shoulder so that they ended up cheek to cheek.

" _Thîn vaer, meleth nín, (Good evening, my love,)_ " she murmured against his ear, pressing a whisper of a kiss to the skin beneath it. "I think you might have the wrong room."

Thorin chuckled, and Alana was delighted to feel the sensation spread from his body and into hers. It made it feel more genuine, somehow. He glanced over at her, his eyes warm and ablaze under the light from the fire. "I am so sorry you think so, my Lady," he replied lowly. "But I think you'll find I am exactly where I want to be."

Alana hummed, pressing her lips to his skin a second time, though this time on the side of his neck. Thorin shuddered almost imperceptibly, but Alana caught it. A smirk danced across her face, and could be seen even in her eyes. "And what is it that has brought you here tonight?"

With a small smile, Thorin unwound Alana's arms from around his shoulders, silently asking her to stand up. When she did, he was quick to pull her closer to him, tugging her hips down so that she settled comfortably in his lap. Alana leant her head against his shoulder, slowly breathing in the scent of his hair, while his arms wrapped themselves securely around her waist. Her hand came to rest on his torso, where there was a gap in his tunic, so her fingers could tangle and play with the hairs on his chest.

It was a few more seconds before Thorin answered her question, and Alana wondered idly whether her actions had caused him to forget for a moment that she'd even asked him anything at all. "Do you have any plans for the day before our wedding?" he asked her, a huskiness to his voice that hadn't been present before.

"No. Why?"

"Because that is when we are leaving the mountain for our day away from all this."

Alana beamed up at him, and he mirrored her expression - though with more restraint. "I didn't think they would allow us to leave so soon," she admitted.

"Nor I," he murmured, brushing his lips gently against the crown of her head. "But your mother and my sister were quite insistent that it be that specific day."

Chuckling, Alana nodded. "I'd imagine they want to kick us out of the mountain for a while, so they can set things up without us seeing. Seems like a bit of an extreme way to do it, but, I suppose, if it works..."

Humming in agreement, Thorin pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. "I'm not complaining - it means we don't have to wait weeks for our chance to relax."

"Blimey, Thorin Oakenshield is talking about relaxing! You _must_ be tired."

Alana's teasing did not go without repercussions - with a cocked eyebrow, Thorin smirked smugly at her and then poked her sides with his fingers. Alana let out a high-pitched squeak, remembering with dread that he had discovered exactly how ticklish she was back in Laketown, and with that feeling starting to spread over her entire body, she slowly met Thorin's gaze. She had a second to mentally prepare herself, but it wasn't enough. Thorin's fingers dove back towards her sides, and Alana let out another squeak of a laugh as he began to mercilessly tickle her to within an inch of her life.

Alana laughed so hard that her stomach muscles began to ache, but even with her breathless pleading for him to stop, Thorin was relentless. And, just like last time, the only reason he finally gave in to her demands was because she had managed to wriggle herself into falling off the chair.

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Alana grumbled, " _Amin delotha lle. (I hate you.)_ "

Thorin, without even a second of pause, replied with his usual, "No, you don't."

"If you keep this up, I might."

"No, you won't."

Alana stared at him for a moment with narrowed eyes, while he just smirked smugly in return. At length, she groaned. "Okay, fine!" Then she lifted an arm into the air, waving her hand in his vague direction. "Now help me get back up on the chair."

Thorin chuckled. "I'm not entirely convinced you need the help."

Alana pointed an accusing finger at him. "The only reason I am down here in the first place is because you decided to tickle me, mister. The least you could do is rectify it."

With a fond roll of his eyes, Thorin grasped hold of Alana's hand and hauled her back onto the chair with enough force to make her squeak. He caught her easily enough as she tumbled into him, wrapping his arm around her entire body again. Alana released a soft sigh and curled up against him, burying her face into the base of his neck.

"Thorin?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

Thorin smiled softly, though Alana didn't see it from her position in his lap. "I love you too, Alana."

* * *

"Mahal, woman! We are leaving for _one day!_ You're acting as if we're moving to the other side of the world!"

"Kili, that is _no_ way to talk to your mother!" Dís threw a tunic at him, which hit him square in the face.

Kili glared balefully at her. "You're going insane! What could we possibly need so much stuff for?!"

"In case of an emergency! You and your brother are magnets for trouble, and I don't want you going out there unprepared!"

" _ **Amad**_ , I really don't think we need a _lecture_ on how to look after ourselves." Kili stormed forward and snatched his coat from his mother's hand. "And I don't need you to _pack_ anything. We're going to be gone for a mere few _hours_. Not _days._ Not _weeks._ Not _months. Hours!_ "

Dís huffed, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "Now, you listen here-"

Before the frustrated dam could continue that sentence, Alana - who had been standing in the doorway, unnoticed, for a good few minutes now - cleared her throat. Dís whirled around, looking for all intents and purposes ready to pop a blood vessel for being interrupted. She deflated somewhat when she saw Alana, who was looking simultaneously amused and sympathetic.

Alana moved from her position in the doorway and entered the room. "I hate to say it, but Kili's right, _mellon nín_. We are unlikely to come across any danger out there, and even if we do, we will be numerous enough to handle it with no trouble, I'm sure. You need to worry so."

Dís released a heavy exhale. "Perhaps you're right." She glanced at Kili and narrowed her eyes, before shoving a finger into his chest. "But that does not excuse your tone, _**gehyith**_."

Kili flushed beet red at the moniker, while Alana tried very hard to hide her snickers. " _ **Amad**_ , you haven't called me that since I was a dwarfling!"

"True, and yet, I think, since you are acting like one, it is an apt name for you now." Dís smirked at her son, who grumbled under his breath, chucked his coat on his bed, and then stomped out of the room. He refused to meet Alana's eyes on the way out.

The moment he was out of earshot, Alana's face split into a huge grin as she questioned, "Little dove?"

Dís chuckled, nodding. "Oh, yes. Kili was a rather... interesting shape when he was a baby. Like a dove, he was short and round, with a head a little too small for its body. His favourite noise before he learned how to speak was also a cooing noise, so... the name stuck. If you'll believe it, Thorin was the one to first suggest it, though he himself hasn't used it since Kili was about... seven years old, I think."

Grinning, Alana's eyes took on a fond, warm glimmer. "You wouldn't think Thorin to be the sort of dwarf to do that sort of thing."

"Oh, he's got a tough exterior - damn-near impenetrable! - but on the inside, he's as soft as a pillow after a hard day's work." Dís smirked. "And he would kill me to hear me say that."

"Perhaps not," a familiar voice said from behind them, and Alana smiled at him affectionately as Thorin also entered the room, "but he _would_ be very tempted by the idea."

Dís just stuck her tongue out at him, shot Alana a wink, and then breezed past them and out of the doorway. Alana turned to Thorin. "Are you alright?"

Thorin nodded, smiling. "I merely came to see how you were doing. Dwalin said you got quite tired during training this morning."

Alana shrugged. "Probably because he dragged me out without checking to see if I'd had breakfast - which I hadn't, by the way. I was just hungry." She placed a peck on the creased between his brows. "I'm fine, _arahervenn_. Though I appreciate you checking in on me."

Returning her smile a second time, Thorin offered her his arm, and she happily slid her arm through his. "Are you ready for tomorrow?" he asked.

Alana shrugged. "There's not much to get ready, as I pointed out to Dís. I'll be able to grab everything in the morning."

Thorin nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose you are right. I just automatically think about things in such a way - preparation has always been a vital part of my life."

"I understand," Alana murmured, giving his arm a brief squeeze. "But for tomorrow, you don't need to think like that. Tomorrow is just for our enjoyment."

"And I am sure we will make the most of it," Thorin agreed with a smile.


	22. Freedom For A Day

**A/N: Howdy y'all! I'm back :) Not much to say here, so I'm just gonna skip this part and say: Onwards!**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Guest: Well, you'll have to wait and see. Don't forget that Legolas is not actually _with_ Thranduil at the moment - he's out exploring. As for trouble... well... guess that depends on your definition ;)**

 **Faron Oakenshield: To be honest, I'd have been worried if you though the execution was sweet... ;) Glad to hear you liked it!**

 **ro781727: Haha, I liked that: long story short, Boitu's going to the Middle Earth equivalent to Hell :P And sure, Thorin and Alana will be safe for a while :)**

 **CrystalVixen93: Thanks, and here ya go! :))**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Haha, well, they are kind of magnets for trouble, so there's bound to be _something_ happening... right? ;)**

* * *

 **'When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.' - Jimi Hendrix**

* * *

 **Chapter 22:**

The day before the royal wedding dawned with a bright yellow sky, the sun sending yellow-orange streaks across the horizon, and highlighting the sparse clouds with gold. The River Running seemed to glow in the morning sunlight, sparkling like a million perfect diamonds. Alana watched with her lips turned upward in a lazy smile as the sun rose higher in the sky, finally lighting the city of Dale, hidden as it was in the shadows of the nearby foothills and forests.

It was only when she heard the frustrated calls of Kili, Fili and Dís that Alana turned away from the window. She was already dressed in her clean, patched Ranger clothing, and it felt glorious to wear it again. The dresses she wore on a daily basis now were beautiful, but they didn't have the same importance as her simple Ranger garb. Being a Ranger of the north was more natural than being a Queen (though she wasn't Queen just yet - one more day, she reminded herself with a tiny, admittedly nervous grin). She had her sword strapped to her waist, and a dozen or so knives and daggers tucked into their respective places on her person, the vast majority of them hidden. Though she was confident that she wouldn't be needing any of them, she was not naive enough to risk leaving her weapons behind.

After tugging her hair up into a loose, single braid - making sure to interweave the dwarven braids she refused to take out of her hair into it - Alana grabbed her cloak, pulled it over her shoulders, and headed for the door.

She yanked it open, jolting to stop when she saw Bofur in front of her, hand raised in a position to knock.

The miner grinned, his eyes shining with excitement. "Morning, lassie!" he greeted cheerfully, lowering his arm. "It seems you're far more prepared than the rest of this lazy lot."

"Oi!" came several protests at once, and Alana could pick out Kili's, Nori's, and Bombur's voices from the chorus reply, though she was sure she heard more than three protesting cries.

Alana grinned. "Yeah, well, tell me what's new."

Bofur shot her an amused smile in response. Then, taking on an air of seriousness and nobility, he bowed low at the waist. "Would it be too impertinent a question to ask if my Queen would allow me to escort her down to the stables?"

Snickering quietly, Alana also took up an uptight demeanour and replied shortly, "That is acceptable." Then with matching grins, Bofur offered his elbow and Alana took it, before the two of them headed along the corridor towards the entrance of the kingdom. Alana could feel excitement and anticipation starting to build up in her chest.

"Haven't seen you much lately," Bofur commented with a rare frown on his face. "I hope you've been looking after yourself since that business with Lord What's-His-Face."

"I've barely been able to get away with missing a single bite of a meal in a week," Alana informed him, amusement colouring her tone still. "Everyone has been incredibly determined to make sure I get my strength back. It seems to be working, though - I know it hasn't been long, but I _do_ feel a lot stronger than I was."

"Well, you're finally starting to put some weight back on," Bofur noted, giving her a blatant once over that caused Alana to raise her eyebrows. He was completely unashamed. "And I'm sure Dwalin's been driving you into the floor with all the training he's been putting you through." He frowned again. "He's not over-doing it, is he? It wouldn't be good to set you backwards because you're being worked too hard."

Alana smiled gratefully at her friend's concern, and gently patted his hand. "I'm fine, Bofur. I'm actually enjoying it. I haven't had the chance to train this much in a very long time, and, as exhausting as it can be, it's a great way to relieve tension. Besides, I like having Dwalin as my punching bag."

Chuckling to himself, Bofur nodded. "Aye, that sounds like fun indeed. Shame I was never good enough to beat him in a fight."

"I wouldn't take that _too_ hard - he is Thorin's General, after all."

Bofur blinked. "He is?"

"Didn't you know?" Alana asked in surprise. "Thorin made Dwalin the General of Erebor's army about... three months ago, I think."

"It doesn't surprise me," Bofur stated with a grin. "And I'm sure it's made Dwalin happy - even without the promotion, he'd probably spend most of his life in the training grounds anyway."

Letting out a bark of laughter, Alana agreed. "Truer words have never been spoken, my friend."

They walked the rest of the way in a companionable silence, politely greeting the dwarves they met along the way. Some seemed shocked to see Alana dressed the way that she was, as if the idea of the Queen in travel clothing was completely foreign, but most seemed to almost appreciate the change. Everyone knew, of course, that Alana had been a Ranger before becoming Thorin's bride-to-be. Perhaps this acted as conformation for those who had previously doubted. Though any old fool could wear such clothes and have a sword at their hip, but those who didn't know how to wield such a weapon would be considerably more cautious than Alana.

In truth, Alana looked far more comfortable now than she ever had done in her thick gowns and formal dresses.

The stables were bustling with activity when they arrived - half the company was already there, and they were wrestling with the stablehands who were trying to help kitting out the ponies, while the company attempted to convince them that _yes,_ they _did_ know how to do it properly, and _no,_ they _didn't_ need any help, thank you very much.

A single horse was standing amongst the many shaggy ponies, and Alana identified it as a mare almost instantly. The main reason being that it was heavily pregnant, its belly hanging low. With a sigh of frustration, Alana approached the horse slowly, noting that she seemed to be rather skittish and uncomfortable. Alana took two minutes just to gain the mare's trust enough to touch her, and then she ran a gentle hand along the horse's neck. She didn't dare let her hand drift further along the mare's body than that, though, guessing that it wouldn't be appreciated by the new mother.

With a light tug, Alana began leading the mare back towards the stables. She shot one of the stablehands a sharp look when he began spluttering out half-formed protests, and he seemed completely baffled by her actions. Theoretically speaking, Alana probably _could_ ride this horse for the day. But the mare had it hard enough carrying its own child without having to carry a stranger on her back, and there was also the potential for the unborn foal to be agitated by it. So she left the mare in the hands of another stablehand - who had not followed the others outside - and left him with strict instructions not to let _anyone_ ride this horse under _any_ circumstances until she had given birth and then had regained her strength afterwards. He agreed, seeming just as perplexed as the stablehand outside had been.

Shaking her head, Alana headed for another stall, finding there to be a dozen full-grown horses in the stables. She smiled broadly when she saw Lord Elrond's own horse, Celebrindal. She was a proud beast, and stubborn, and generally had a habit of misbehaving, but she was nonetheless incredibly loyal to her master. She was also the horse that Aragorn had learned how to ride on - despite her being almost twice his height. As a result, she had formed a bond with both Alana and Aragorn, and so whickered softly in greeting when the Ranger approached her.

Alana smiled and gently rubbed Celebrindal's long, grey nose, greeting her softly in Sindarin.

"W-Was the horse chosen not suitable for you, my Queen?" came a timid voice, and Alana froze before turning around. A young man was stood before her, probably no older than fifteen, wringing his hands nervously in front of him. His entire frame seemed to be shaking as he stared up at her, his eyes shining with both reverence and terror.

Alana felt her lips curling upwards. "At any other time, she would have been perfect," she began, trying not to make the poor boy any more anxious than he already was. "But so late into her pregnancy, she shouldn't be having anyone on her back; it could be bad for the foal."

The boy flushed, ashamed, and averted his keen eyes. "F-Forgive me, my Queen. I did not know. I thought-"

"It's fine," Alana cut in, before the boy could ramble himself into hysteria. "There was no harm done in the end. But something to keep in mind for the future, hmm?"

He bit his bottom lip shyly, and then nodded. "Of course." He bowed to her. "Shall I pick out another horse for you?" He waited patiently for her to reply as she wondered whether Elrond would be against her taking his own horse for the day, when the boy's face suddenly became stricken with horror. "Oh...!" he squeaked. "I-I'm so sorry for being so... uh... forthright, my Queen. Forgive me. I'm just not used to-"

"Relax," Alana ordered firmly, though not unkindly. "Take a breath. Steel your nerves." The boy did as instructed, inhaling a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, and then slowly releasing it. Alana smiled. "You did not overstep any boundaries, you need not fear. It was a sensible question."

"But I didn't address you with the respect you deserve, my Queen," he mumbled sheepishly.

Alana came close to rolling her eyes, but she didn't. "You do not need to end every sentence with 'my Queen'. I will not be insulted, and, to be honest, I would be more comfortable if you didn't." She smiled. "And yes, I would be very grateful if you could help me find another horse for the day."

The boy smiled shyly at her, before scampering away to do as asked. Alana turned back to Celebrindal, who hadn't seemed to mind being left alone previously, but now relished the attention being given to her.

"Why does it not surprise me that it is you who is holding us up?"

Alana rolled her eyes, sending the crookedly grinning Nori a flat look. "Perhaps you ought to be more considerate with your speech, Master Nori. Irritate me enough, and I might just manage to persuade Thorin to leave you stranded in the middle of the desert."

Nori shrugged. "The nearest desert from here is in Harad. I think I'm safe."

Alana rolled her eyes. "You're missing the point!"

"Oh, I got it," he assured her, still wearing that irritatingly smug grin. "Doesn't mean my return point didn't have validity, though."

With no words to dispute that, Alana did the only thing she could in that situation; she stuck her tongue out at him.

* * *

It shouldn't have surprised her that over half of the company had brought with them bottles of alcohol, hidden though they were beneath the thick layers of their coats and tunics. Bofur, Nori, Dwalin and Fili all brought bottles of ale. Balin brought some wine. Bifur and Bombur brought scotch and rum, respectively. Kili brought a few smaller bottles of ale. Alana shook her head fondly at them all as they laid out the alcohol collection, and despite her exasperation, she didn't bother chastising them for it. She'd probably just get dragged into a drinking competition for trying to pull something like that.

Ori, bless him, had spent the wee hours of the morning with a few of the early risers among the kitchen staff, making enough food to feed a small battalion (which, to be fair to him, was tantamount to what this particular group of thirteen made). Cold meats, sliced bread, fruit, water, cakes, biscuits and pre-made sandwiches made up the impromptu picnic, and the rest of the company eagerly and repeatedly thanked the quietly blushing young scribe for his forethought and consideration.

Despite her early protests, Alana _did_ end up drinking some of the ale they'd brought along with them, though not enough to make her drunk. Instead, she settled back on the grass with her head leaning on Thorin's chest, his arm wrapped around her, and the two of them silently enjoying the madness of their friends and family as it unfolded before them. Bofur, Nori and Kili - incidentally, the drunkest of the group - had a particularly hilarious dancing competition (which Kili won in the end, though they were all pretty terrible).

They all talked and laughed over lunch, exchanging stories and tales of their lives; even ones of their journey to Erebor, which, of course, some of the group tried to over-embellish extensively. Alana shouldn't have been surprised that they ended up in the middle of a food fight, but it nonetheless caught her off guard. She had been in fits of laughter when Kili had picked up a tomato and thrown it with his hand over his eyes, and it had ended up falling onto a shell-shocked Dwalin's head, exploding and creating a mess of the aged warrior. Kili had gone as white as snow, and the company had then enjoyed ten minutes of Kili being chased around the clearing by Dwalin, who was enraged and still covered in bits of tomato.

Not long after lunch, Fili and Kili had to leave the group, for fear of incurring the wrath of their mother were they to not be in Erebor to help with the final preparations of Thorin and Alana's wedding. Balin went with them, for while he was not required, as such, his expertise in the traditions and expectations of the dwarven race would be paramount for such an event.

The rest of the group stuck around for much longer, though eventually they also began to disappear off, taking their ponies with them. It wasn't long before Thorin and Alana were the last ones in the clearing, their own mounts grazing contentedly nearby. Thorin was lying flat on the grass, his arm wrapped around Alana's body, and her head resting on his shoulder as she curled up against him. Thorin's fingers drew idle patterns on Alana's waist, and Alana had to bite her tongue to stop herself purring as she focused on those tiny, shiver-inducing movements, and the wonderful scent that was drifting up her nose from his coat.

In fact, she was so comfortable and so relaxed that she nearly fell asleep. She was mere moments away when Thorin's voice startled her back into wakefulness.

"You know," he murmured, "this might be our last moment of true peace for a long time."

Alana let out a low grumble, before replying, "I didn't need you to ruin my good mood by saying that, Thorin."

He let a silent chuckle rumble its way up his chest. "You'll have to forgive me, _**atamanel**_. But do you deny the truth of my words?"

Alana sighed. "No, of course not. But, just for a minute, could we simply pretend that we have all the freedom in the world to do exactly as we wish?" She shifted her body so that she was half draped over him, resting her chin on his chest while he tipped his head down to meet her gaze. "Just for today," she whispered, "this forest, this place... it is ours, and we could be the only ones in the world right now."

Thorin chuckled. "Those are dangerous words, my Lady. If you make me believe we are the last ones alive on this earth, I may not be able to keep my hands off of you."

Alana's mouth gaped open at those words, her cheeks flushing bright pink. "T-Thorin...!"

Thorin laughed, a deep-bellied laugh that almost dislodged Alana from her precariously balanced position. " ** ** _ **Asti**_ _ **abnâmul kuthu nurutsi baraz'alâj, (You're cute when you blush,)**_**** " he murmured, before drawing her lips up to meet his.

Alana's hands instantly flew up to his hair, and she didn't protest when his hands gripped her hips tightly, drawing her closer to him. They parted only to draw breath, before their lips locked for a second time. This time there was something charged about it - something that made the air around them crackle and buzz. All the breath was drawn from Alana's lungs, but she barely noticed. Her fingers tugged at Thorin's hair, and in response he drew her impossibly close, so there wasn't even a millimetre of space between them.

Alana found herself suddenly understanding Thorin's comment completely - she could barely stand to part herself from him, now that she had him in her grasp, both of them so close and so tangible and so _alive._ Thorin's hand moved to the crook of her knee, giving it a firm tug so her leg was cradling his torso. Alana focused her kisses on the sensitive spot behind his ear, grinning to herself when his grip on her tightened further - possibly enough to leave bruises, though she didn't care about that in the slightest.

The echoing crack of a stick somewhere nearby drew them away from each other like they'd been shocked by a bolt of lightning. Both were on their feet, back to back with their blades in hand, in a single second.

Alana stooped low as the sound of thundering hooves met her ears, though her eyes widened in surprise soon after. It was Firebrand who was racing towards them, looking rather alarmed. The Ranger quickly sheathed her blade as the mearas came to a skidding halt, throwing his head back and snorting. He began restlessly pawing at the ground, shuffling nervously on his feet.

Holding out a hand, Alana petted Firebrand's nose in an attempt to calm him, but he seemed beyond being consoled. Whatever had him so frantic was no small thing.

With a rough snort, Firebrand turned to Alana's horse, who had become alert the moment the mearas had raced into view - even regular horses could detect when they were in the presence of a mearas. Alana's horse trotted towards her, lowering his head and then throwing it back so his chin hit the saddle on his back.

"I think Firebrand wants me to come with him," Alana murmured out loud, more for Thorin's benefit than anything else. She turned to face him. "I haven't seen him this agitated in all the days I've known him. Thorin, please-"

"Go," the King said calmly, though his eyes were firm. "Find out what's wrong. Return when you can - preferably before tomorrow, if you don't mind." He grinned cheekily at her after that, to which Alana just rolled her eyes, before jumping into the saddle of her horse.

She looked back down at him. "If I feel I will be back after nightfall, I will do what I can to send word to you, so you don't worry."

Thorin nodded. "I will make sure to keep an eye out for it." He stepped back. "Now go. Before Firebrand's patience wanes."

With a final shared nod between them, Alana and her borrowed horse took off after Firebrand, who she could see was clearly restraining himself from breaking out into his fastest pace. They weaved and leapt around trees and over fallen logs, venturing deeper and deeper into the forest.

Alana didn't know how long they maintained this frantic pace, but it was long enough that she began to grow really worried. Whatever the reason for Firebrand's unusual behaviour, it could have taken anything around an hour for him to find her and return - and things have the potential change quickly.

At length they came to the edge of the forest, leading into a large meadow. In the centre of the meadow lay a mare - she was a beautiful, pale grey, with a near-black mane and tail. Alana spotted the source of the emergency instantly.

This mare was giving birth.

The Ranger all but leapt from her mount, crashing to her knees by the horse's side. Firebrand approached his mate slowly, nuzzling her nose gently as a sign of reassurance. Running her hands along the mare's stomach, she realised the issue - it felt like the foal was not positioned correctly to be birthed as it was meant to be.

Alana froze for a moment. She was a trained healer, yes, but she had never dealt with a birth before - whether for a horse, or for a human woman. She knew the theory behind it, of course, but... was that enough?

Then the mare twitched and let out a grunt, and Alana pushed her worries to the back of her mind. Rolling up her sleeves, she got to work.


	23. When Things Go Wrong

**A/N: Aha, it is the wedding day...! I mean, it'll also bleed into the next chapter, but it is here at last! And to think the wedding was one of the first things on my list of stuff to include... I never realised it would take 23/24 chapters to get there... Heh... Anyway, onwards and upwards, my precious ones ;)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: TheDovahkiinAvenger and readingkitten :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Faron Oakenshield: It's all good, I promise... ;)**

 **Dreamer4life16: HI AGAIN! I MISSED YOOOOUUUUU! How was your away period, for whatever reason that it happened? Hope it was good! ANyway, yes, the reviews... Dwalin has hair - quite a lot of it, actually - it's just not on the top of his head. And I'm sure if you said that to his face he would be _very_ disappointed in you... And yes, I caught the quote ( _Captain_... _Captain_ Jack Sparrow... ;)) And yes, I guess you're right to be paranoid. Or maybe you shouldn't be. Who knows? Maybe I'm being a cruel human being and keeping you in suspense? Maybe I'm not...? :P I genuinely think teasing Kili should be made either a professional occupation, or at least a highly recognised pastime... And I would LOVE to take part in it ;) Poor guy, but he's so cute I just can't help it. I'm glad Firebrand's arrival terrified you... and I'm also sorry... Welcome to the life of angsty fanfictions, though I guess you've been a part of it for a while now... Hmm... I don't know if I'll include the wedding night, but I've had 'the scene' written for like two months by now. I might post it on a separate fic... We'll see, I guess. Glad to hear you're enjoying it still! Xx**

* * *

 **'Sometimes things have to go wrong in order to go right.' - Sherrilyn Kenyon**

* * *

 **Chapter 23:**

There was something of a commotion going on at the main entrance by the time Thorin made it back to Erebor. After leaving his pony in the stables he was 'requested' by his sister to head up to the royal suite via any back routes he knew, as he was supposed to know nothing about the wedding until the day. Being that he was the King, that meant he couldn't see half of his kingdom.

He blamed it on the fact that everyone was so busy that they didn't seem to notice that Alana was by his side. In fact, it wasn't until he ran into Ori as he was leaving the royal library that anyone pointed it out.

The young scribe blinked at Thorin, then glanced next to him, as if expecting Alana to appear out of nowhere. His eyebrows furrowed. "Did you return by yourself?" he asked.

Thorin nodded. "Firebrand appeared and seemed to be in urgent need of Alana's help. I do not think I have ever seen him in such a state. Alana left with him, while I headed back."

"Are they going to be alright?"

Thorin smiled. "I am sure they're fine. Remember, if it comforts you, the carnage the two of them wreaked during the war. An entire army of orcs was not enough to stop them." He placed a grounding hand on Ori's shoulder. "They will be fine, Ori. On my life be it."

Ori looked uncertain still, and in a dark, distant corner of his mind, Thorin was too. He just didn't let himself dwell on it, and didn't allow it to show. At length, the scribe frowned again, then looked over his shoulder, peering back into the library. "Are you coming, Miss Bergni?"

Though he had pardoned her and allowed her to go free, Thorin could not truly forgive Bergni for the part she played in Boitu's betrayal. He had been told by Dori of her progress at learning how to become a successful merchant and tailor, and thus knew that the shock of her brother's death had come two days after the date of his execution, and the worst of it had lasted three days following that. Now she had entered the stage of grief where she would isolate herself for long hours, even from her One. She had barely made it to her final lesson of the week. Her skin had grown pale and sunken, and there were dark, heavy bags of sorrow and exhaustion under her eyes. She wore now only black dresses - a symbol of her still being in a state of mourning.

Bergni curtsied shakily to Thorin when she finally emerged from the room. "Good afternoon, my King," she greeted, her voice as polite as ever, but it was quiet now, feeble almost, and even Thorin could not help but feel a stab of pity and sympathy towards the dam.

He tilted his head. "Good afternoon, Miss Bergni. How goes your training?"

She shrugged, a decidedly improper gesture for a woman who had spent so much of her life as part of the nobility. Perhaps stripping her of her rank had been more freeing for her than Thorin had originally realised. "It goes well, I believe, your Majesty." Before his very eyes, Bergni seemed to regain a little of her vitality. "Cardac has been helping me a lot, when I struggle."

"I am pleased to hear you are able to see him more now."

Bergni bit her lip. "As am I, my King. I can never repay me for your kindness, or your mercy-"

Thorin held up a hand, and Bergni snapped her lips shut, flushing and bowing her head. "Have we not agreed to never speak of that again?" She nodded slowly. Thorin let a little sympathy slide into his voice, softening it only enough for the most astute to notice. "Ensure that you keep your word, and that will be repayment enough."

She nodded, curtsying a second time. "Of course, my King. Thank you."

Ori smiled pleasantly at the shy dam, having found something of a kindred spirit in her over the past few hours. They were both quiet, timid people, and yet they worked very well together, needing only minimal verbal communication. It was a comfortable environment to be in, and, though they didn't say much, he enjoyed having someone else nearby. "Thank you for your help today, Miss Bergni. I will see you next weekend."

Bergni allowed a tiny smile to grace her lips. "Indeed, Master Ori." She bowed her head again at the two, before walking away. Thorin watched her for a moment, noting the way she kept her shoulders and back still and straight, and how she kept her head high regardless of what had befallen her and her family.

He turned back to Ori, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Come, my friend," he said with a smile. "It has been too long since we have spoken. Join me."

* * *

Alana didn't return until hours later, long after night had fallen. She arrived looking tired enough that Thorin had genuine concerns she would simply slide out of her saddle.

In the end, she made it to the stables in one piece, though she gratefully accepted Thorin's wordless hand down.

She explained to him what had happened as they walked back to the royal suites; that Firebrand's and his mate were having a foal, and that the mare had been having difficulties. Alana told him that she had been able to shift the foal into the right position, and beyond that, the birth had progressed with no problems. The foal had been a girl, with a sabino coat - she was dark brown for the most part, but with four grey stockings and a blaze running down her nose. Alana had remained to witness the foal get shakily to her feet, before she bid Firebrand farewell and left with her own horse towards the mountain, leaving the new family to be together.

Thorin listened closely to her tale, not showing much emotion, but as they were turning into the royal quarter, he said, "You are rather remarkable, you know."

Alana blinked at him, then frowned. "Come again?"

He chuckled. "You are remarkable," he repeated, with no hesitation or waver in his voice. "You face challenge upon challenge with all the grace of the Queen I know you will be, and so far you have overcome them all with the same grace. You do not falter and you do not fear - you simply roll up your sleeves and get the job done. It is an admirable trait."

Alana scoffed. "You think I don't get scared?" she asked, and he glanced up at her, perplexed. "Thorin, I've spent the last few weeks in a state of perpetual terror."

His eyes widened at her confession, and he stopped dead. Alana halted as well. "You... what?" he repeated, completely dumbfounded.

Alana shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck with a hint of pink in her cheeks. "I guess... I've just been a little overwhelmed," she admitted quietly. "There's just been so much that has happened! What with your coronation, Boitu and Bergni, the execution, the wedding plans, now this... My life has changed so much in so short a time, I just... I-I guess I'm just scared it'll never be comfortable again. Not like it was on the journey."

Thorin's brows were furrowed deeply. "Do you regret choosing to come here?"

Alana shook her head. "Oh, Mahal, no! Not ever! Not for a second!" She sighed. "But, Thorin, can you not understand? I realise that being Queen will be difficult, and I am willing to give my all. The transition period has just lasted longer than I thought it would." She sighed again, averting her gaze. "I guess I'm just not sure if I can do this. Or do it right, at least."

Thorin exhaled heavily, wrapping her hands in his, covering them completely. He then used this contact to gently tug her closer, leaving very little space between them. From this angle he could see the individual flecks of colour in her eyes, and he could now see the fear that she had been masking for so long. He felt like a fool for not seeing it sooner, for not noticing her doubts. She hid them so well that he never thought... he never believed... Thorin shook his head, forcing his mind back on track. "Alana... _**Atamanel**_ , you should not have such fears."

"I cannot help it."

He smiled fondly, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "You are too modest for your own good," he said fondly. "And you have too much self-doubt." He eyed their entwined fingers, his mind noting just how different they were. His were thick and rough and seemed to overshadow hers, possessing an obvious strength that looked as if it could break her hand with a single twitch. Her fingers, on the other hand, were long and dainty, and far smoother to the touch. Her hands were so small - modest almost, like she herself was. Even the rings on their fingers echoed this - his was bold and simple, of dwarfish design. Hers was elegant and looked feeble, and yet was one of a kind, and was possibly even as strong as his own. They seemed to be almost exact mirrors of one another, and yet, as he looked into her eyes, the colour so similar to that of his own, he couldn't help but realise how they were at the same time exactly the same. They had the same fears and hopes, the same strengths and weaknesses.

They were two sides of the same coin. Different enough, and yet still part of the same whole.

Alana's eyes fluttered as his hand rose slowly to cradle her face. "What are you thinking?" she whispered, leaning into his touch.

"That I cannot bear the thought of another day without you by my side," he replied, his voice just as soft. "I need you in my life as much as I need the breath in my lungs, and the heart in my chest. I do not ever wish you to change, _**amrâlimê**_. You are perfect to me. And you are perfect _for_ me." He gently guided her forehead to rest against his, and breathed out at last, " ** _Zâyungi_** ** _zu yothur nidif furkh. (I love you more than life.)_** "

Alana sucked in a shaky breath, as if everything he'd said had come as a surprise, and had rocked her to her very core. Thorin realised with a pang of regret and guilt that he didn't say this enough - he didn't often enough tell her how much he loved her... how much he needed her in his life.

He vowed to himself, then and there, never to let her doubt his feelings for her. He would never allow her to feel unloved, even for the smallest of moments.

"How in Mahal's name am I supposed to find the words to get anywhere close to that?" Alana asked him, a smile on her face that Thorin mirrored, though hers was marred by her tears of unadulterated joy. "I love you too, Thorin. With every bone in my body, and with every inch of my heart, I love you." She exhaled shakily. "I swear to you that I will be with you forever. The Valar be damned. Eru be damned. There is no power on this land or any other that can keep me from you."

Thorin chuckled, feeling his heart swell in his chest. "I have a feeling Mahal might take that as a challenge."

Alana grumbled a quick, "Shut up," before she grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and pulled his lips to hers, kissing him with a fervour and a passion that they had both missed greatly. His hands rose to cup her cheeks, keeping her in place while his tongue pressed insistently on the seam on her lips. She met his tongue with her own, fingers tangling with the long locks of his hair, and Thorin felt his heart thunder up into his throat. He could feel his lungs burning for air, but he didn't think it was worth the pain of drawing away from her just for breath.

They pulled apart only when they heard a rather irritated noise, followed by someone clearing their throat. Alana had a flush to her cheeks, obviously slightly embarrassed about being caught in such a position, but Thorin could only summon up a surge of annoyance.

The two glanced at the one whom had interrupted them, both of them relaxing when they noted that it was Dís, though she didn't look very impressed, with her arms folded over her chest and a frown in place above her eyes.

"Shame on you, Thorin Oakenshield," she said, marching up to the two and all but ripping them apart. "Your wedding is tomorrow! Do you not honestly have the patience to wait one more day before you-"

"Dís," Thorin cut in, his lips curling up at the sides as his amusement won out over his previous vexation. "Do you really believe that I would do that?"

Dís huffed. "Well, if you weren't planning on it, you did a damn good job of making it _look_ like you were! I'd have thought you a voracious adolescent for how you have been behaving lately!"

Thorin cocked an eyebrow. "If I remember correctly - and I know that I do - you and your dearly beloved were far worse than this before _your_ wedding."

Dís instantly blushed bright red. "Wha-! How did you-?! I-I... W-We didn't-"

Thorin chuckled, cutting off Dís' stammering. "You two were not as subtle about it as you clearly believed," he said, grimacing almost imperceptibly as an old, unwanted memory resurfaced in his mind's eye. "But that is beside the point - you have nothing to fear about my actions, sister. I have waited this long - I can wait another night and day."

Alana, the poor thing, was somewhat floundered. She knew, of course, that some of her and Thorin's... _interactions_... had perhaps been pushing the limit of what was considered to be socially acceptable for an unmarried couple, but there was something very different about it being discussed so openly in front of her. As a general rule, she was neither easily embarrassed nor easily made uncomfortable, but now she was both of those things. Her cheeks felt hot, and she found herself suddenly unable (or, at the very least, extremely unwilling) to move her eyes from the little scuff they'd found on her right shoe.

Dís sighed at last. "I suppose I should apologise for doubting you," she grumbled. "Though you cannot argue against the fact that the position I just found you two in was far from proper!"

"And since when have either of us claimed to be 'proper'?" Thorin challenged, smirking.

With her hands planted on her hips, Dís retorted, "You are the bloody King and Queen! At least the slightest hint of decorum would be appreciated!"

"Perhaps you are right," Alana piped up, still sensing that her cheeks were flushed a bright, rosy pink, but having regained some of her composure now. "But where would be the fun in that?"

Dís threw her hands up in exasperation, letting out a loud huff. "No wonder you two are getting married! I feel as if I am talking to the same stubborn person!" She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose, before taking in a deep breath and forcing herself to calm down. "Now, if we could move past that, I do have a reason for being here."

"And what is that?" Thorin questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

"It is nearly midnight."

Both of them froze, sharing a look that spoke much of their joy and anticipation, before Alana leaned down and placed one final peck on Thorin's lips. "I shall see you in a few hours," she murmured against his mouth, before stealing one more fervent kiss before Dís grabbed her arm and dragged her away.

A tradition that was followed by - to her knowledge - every one of the races on Middle Earth was that, on the day of the wedding, the bride and groom weren't allowed to see each other at any point before the ceremony. Dwarves in particular took that tradition very seriously, almost acting as if it were an enforced law, and so Alana was unsurprised that Dís had come to whisk her away.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" Dís asked, two parts curious, one part concerned.

"I'm..." Alana paused. She didn't really know how to put her feelings into words. She was thrilled beyond anything, excited and almost bursting from the desire to just have it over with _now_ , but at the same time her stomach was a whirl of anxiety and nerves, and the more she thought about it, the more she began to feel slightly ill. "Everything," she answered at last. "I'm pretty sure I'm feeling every emotion I can."

"Not anger or annoyance, I hope."

"Well, no, I suppose not those," Alana agreed, tugging on her hair sub-consciously. "But fear, and elation, and nervousness, and excitement, and..." She shrugged. "Well, you have been in my shoes before. I'm sure you know well enough how I'm feeling."

Dís hummed mildly. "You might be right, though I remember little of my wedding day beyond the ceremony itself."

"And the night that followed, I'd imagine," Alana couldn't help but add, before flushing when she realised exactly what had just come from her lips. Still, she much preferred this to being chastised for being too... liberal with her affections.

Laughing, Dís nodded. "Aye, and the night as well. Though you yourself will know exactly why by this time tomorrow."

Alana blinked. "Did you... feel... scared...? Before it happened, were you nervous at all?"

Dís glanced back at her, before nodding. "I was terrified," she admitted. "But the thing is, you build things up in your head, running over every tiny thing that could go wrong, and yet when the moment comes... All of that just goes away. When you love someone like I loved my husband, and you love Thorin, it seems so easy and natural." She frowned. "I suppose there are better ways to phrase that, but you will not truly understand what I mean until you experience it for yourself."

Alana nodded slowly, glad that the heat was finally starting to fade from her cheeks. "I guess..." She inhaled a shaky breath, before turning to the dwarrowdam who this day was to become her sister-in-law, and smiled broadly. "Just promise me you won't let me oversleep, okay? Can't be late for my own wedding."

Dís laughed again, a loud bark of laughter that echoed off the stone walls and filled every pocket of air within a hundred metres. "I wouldn't dare." She placed a firm hand on Alana's arm. "Everything will be fine, Alana. You'll see."

* * *

Everything was most certainly _not_ fine. The most obvious of issues was that elves of Mirkwood had yet to appear - despite the fact the ceremony was in less than two hours. But Alana had other pressing problems - like the fact that one of her shoes had gone missing; and that the wedding rings that had been commissioned a whole month ago were still being engraved (though the metalsmith insisted he was nearly done, and would send the completed rings up to them in time for the ceremony); and that Kili had spilled ale over his shirt, and so had to change into his other one... only to find that that shirt was missing two buttons; and, to top it all off, both Dís and Gilraen were absent, as they had been called away for some kind of emergency in the celebration hall.

Which meant that Alana was left to pull herself into the most complicated dress she had ever seen _by herself._

Still, it couldn't be denied that the dress was gorgeous. It was made of the finest silk she had ever worn, a pearl white colour that beautifully contrasted her dark hair (which, by the way, hadn't been done yet either). The corset of the dress was covered in pale blue thread, the embroidery painting wonderful images of flowers and leaves, and yet there were also many tastefully added shapes that followed dwarven tradition - bold, pointy angles included, which somehow complemented the gentle curls of the rest of the design. The skirt was simple and had no further embellishments, though there was a three foot long train that floated behind her when she moved. The sleeves were loose enough on her arms to allow plenty of movement, yet they still framed her arms in such a way that there were no creases in the fabric. A necklace with a single, pale sapphire on a silver chain was around her neck - a gift, she had been told, from her husband-to-be.

As time passed, and Alana waited for her mother and sister to return, she began to grow more and more concerned that she _might_ actually be late for her own wedding. With barely more than an hour to go, having spent the last forty-five minutes pacing a hole into the floor in a state of nervous frenzy, Alana silently declared that she had no more time to spare. She poked her head out of the door and called to one of the guards at the end of the hall.

"Nyr!"

"Yes, my Queen?" the guard asked, standing at attention instantly.

"I need you to get Bergni for me."

He blinked. "You would like me to...? Are you sure, my Lady?"

Alana nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. And please hurry - time is not something I have in abundance."

He bowed his head, though his face still showed his trepidation. "I will do as asked, my Lady, with all due haste."

And then he was gone, and Alana had shut the door. She paused in the doorway, staring at the room that had been hers for... well, the best part of a year. The bed was ostentatiously large for a single person, but was also so incredibly comfortable that she didn't dare complain about its outrageous size. A wooden chest sat at the bottom of her bed, filled with all of her Ranger gear, and her travelling pack. On the walls hung each of her weapons, a plaque dedicated to each one, and there was a display case on the top of the desk to the left of her bed that housed her knives and smaller daggers. Across the room from the desk was her vanity, the mirror on top leaning against the wall. A wardrobe stood proudly in the corner of the room, right next to the window. On the window's other side was the fireplace, empty of flames at the current time, due to it being summer and the weather being as warm as it was. To the side was a door, leading into the modest bathroom that was attached to the room.

Beside her weapons, there wasn't all that much that was personal about this room, and yet it was _hers._ It belonged to her.

And this would be the last time it was so.

After the ceremony, she and Thorin would move into the larger, shared quarters saved for the King and Queen. Until now, Thorin had also been sleeping in a room of his own, up until now - the one he'd slept in when he lived here as a child, before the dragon came.

Alana breathed in deeply, moving towards the vanity and sitting down. She then slowly and carefully began pulling out the braids in her hair. It felt weird and wrong to not have the weight of the five metal beads pulling her hair down, as she couldn't remember having ever taken them out like this before. They'd always been taken out for the sole purpose of redoing them.

Standing again, Alana headed to the bathroom and ran the tap, a steady stream of lukewarm water splashing onto her waiting fingers. She began running them through her hair, smoothing out the crinkles that had been left behind by the braids. With that done, she returned once more to her room.

She had just picked up her comb when there was a semi-urgent knock on the door.

With a sigh of relief, Alana all but threw the comb down, rushing to the door and yanking it open. Before Bergni could open her mouth, Alana ushered her into the room, and slammed the door shut behind her.

"I need you to do my hair for me," she said without preamble.

Bergni blinked. "Why me?" she asked, before biting her lip at how rude she had sounded. Still, she didn't apologise.

Quite frankly, Alana didn't care about that. "Because my mother and the Lady Dís are dealing with something else, and off the top of my head, I know of no one else who would be able and willing to do my hair. I know this is a lot to ask with the things between us being what they are, but, please, will you do this for me, Bergni?"

Bergni stared at Alana as if she had grown another head, and the Ranger was just beginning to fear that she might have to do her own hair when, at last, the disgraced noblewoman gave a nod. "Alright, my Lady. I will do as you ask. Now come, sit before the vanity. We don't have much time left, but I will do what I can."


	24. Queen Under the Mountain

**A/N: Yes, I know, it's been longer this time. I do apologise, but my wifi went down, so it's not really my fault. Still, it's back now, so all's good :) Hope you enjoy the second half of the wedding! :)))**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: SarahRhi and Phoenix Tears Of A Riddle**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Haha, yes, yes indeed :P**

 **Rohirrim Girl 2178: Unfortunately, life has a habit of going wrong exactly when you don't want it to... Still, you get used to it :)**

 **Dreamer4life16: A someone who gets frequent migraines, I know the pain, and I feel for you, my friend. I'm really sorry to hear about your nephew! :( I hope he's in a happy place...! But yes, the chapter... I know it wasn't all in one place, but if it was it would have been hella long. It continues even after this, too. So, you know... As for Legolas... well... there may have been some mind reading going on there... ;) And yes, baby Thorin would be adorable, but there's a little more to go before they think about kids, so be patient, if you can... As for Alana's height, she's 6'2", so a foot taller than Thorin. So yes, there is much leaning down on her part, heh. Though on the 'Elrond scale', as you call it, she's probably about level with his nose...? He is a tall son of a bitch. ;) Hope you enjoy the rest of the wedding :)))**

* * *

 **'Two souls but a single thought. Two hearts that beat as one.' - John Keats**

* * *

 **Chapter 24:**

By the time Dís and Gilraen returned - a measly twenty minutes before she was due in the celebration hall - Alana was almost ready to go. Her missing shoe had been found, her hair was done in a simple yet elegant half-up style, word had reached her that Kili had found a replacement shirt, and the rings had arrived.

The two didn't so much as bat an eyelid at the sight of Bergni pinning up the last stray strand of Alana's hair, and Alana could have sworn she'd even heard an almost imperceptible sigh of relief from the dwarrowdam.

"Oh, look at you!" Gilraen gushed, rushing forward and pulling Alana into a firm hug. "My little baby girl is all grown up!"

Alana rolled her eyes. "Alright, _naneth_ , I don't need any waterworks today. And, in case you didn't notice, I grew up a long time ago."

Gilraen sighed, wiping a deceptive tear from the corner of her eye. "I know, I know, I just..." She smiled. "I'm so happy for you, _pinig_. I only wish-" Gilraen cut herself off sharply, a look of intense sorrow in her eyes that Alana had long ago learned to recognise - her mother was thinking of Arathorn.

Alana sighed and pulled her mother into another embrace, giving Gilraen the chance to hide her face while she regained her composure; Gilraen hated being seen as anything but sturdy and sure of herself. "I miss him too, _nana_ ," she whispered. "But just because we can't see him does not mean that he is not here." She drew back slowly, placing a comforting hand on her mother's cheek, marvelling at how easy it was to reverse their roles - she almost felt like a mother herself, comforting her weeping child. It felt odd to be the comforter of the two of them, but she didn't dare risk letting her mother break down. Not on today of all days.

Gilraen inhaled sharply, then nodded. "Yes, of course." A gentle smile crossed her lips then, a tenderness in her eyes that Alana only rarely saw. "He would not miss this day for all the world."

The two shared another smile, before turning back to the matter at hand. Bergni and Dís were bustling about doing Mahal knows what, though Alana suspected they were simply attempting to look busy, so as not to be seen as intruding on her and Gilraen's rather sensitive conversation. Shaking herself off, Alana planted her hands on her hips.

"Okay," she said at length, drawing the dams' eyes her way. "What's next?"

"Estel will be on his way up soon," Gilraen began thoughtfully, transitioning seamlessly into what Alana liked to call her 'business mode'. "The hall is ready for the ceremony now - in fact, the people are already gathering for the-"

A knock on the door interrupted whatever Alana's mother was going to say next.

Alana frowned. "Who in Eru's name could that be?"

Dís moved with a purposeful stride towards the door, opening it just enough for her to peer through - she wouldn't dare risk Thorin seeing Alana before the ceremony, if it proved to be him that was knocking.

It wasn't.

In fact, the man standing before her was perhaps as un-Thorin-ish as could be possible. And while she had never met him before in person, there was not even the smallest sliver of doubt in her mind as to who this was.

"You've traveled a long way to be here," Dís noted, with a bland voice. There was no hostility, but no friendliness either.

Alana frowned, wondering who exactly it could be standing at her door on the day of her wedding.

Then, a familiar voice spoke from the other side of the door. "Regardless of how far I had to travel to get here, I could not, in good conscience, miss the wedding of one of my dearest friends."

Alana's entire face lit up. "Legolas!"

She all but lunged for the door, ripping it open and beaming at the blonde Prince, who stood as still and straight as a statue before her sister-in-law. Foregoing propriety, Alana flung her arms around Legolas' shoulders, using enough force that his air supply was cut off almost completely.

Still, he let out a rather strained laugh and embraced her back, pushing away after only a few seconds and making a show of inhaling sharply. Alana bit her bottom lip sheepishly, a wordless apology in her eyes. Legolas waved it off.

"It is good to see you, _mellon_ ," he said with a warm smile. "It has been far too long."

"And yet far less time than I expected," she retorted, gesturing for him to enter her room. He did so with an air of hesitance, though no one openly opposed his presence there. "Nonetheless, I am thrilled to see you."

Legolas chuckled. "I am only glad I made it in time for the ceremony - there were many days where I feared I would not make it in time."

"So," Alana said, dropping back into her chair by the vanity, now waiting for Aragorn to arrive (he was, after all, her ring bearer), "tell me where you have ventured in the past months."

With a smile, Legolas told her. He spoke of his trials in the Misty Mountains, having been ambushed by a party of goblins. He spoke also of his trip to Rivendell, musing that it held an unfamiliar comfort to it, yet it felt less homely to him than the Woodland Realm of his father. He revealed that he'd also made a trip to the dúnedain villages in Eriador, meeting some of Alana's distant kin. Many had never seen an elf before, though the two races had always been trusted allies of one another.

While he spoke, the rest of the women in the room pottered around, making a few minor adjustments to Alana's dress or hair. The ceremony was ten minutes away from starting when Aragorn and Lord Elrond entered together.

"Legolas Thranduilion," Elrond greeted with a respectful bow of his head. "I did not look to see you here."

"My coming was unexpected for all but myself," came the Prince's reply. "It is good to see you, my Lord."

"Likewise." The Lord turned to face Alana, a gentle smile on his face. "Are you ready to go, my Queen?" There was a teasing edge to his voice that was rare to hear from this particular elf, and while Alana knew this, she also couldn't stop herself from replying with a deadpan look that caused him (and a few others) to chuckle lightly.

Lord Elrond, in the absence of Alana's true father, had stepped forward to act as the one to give her away. It saddened her to know that Arathorn would not truly be here to do this, but somewhere in her head and heart, she knew that he was nonetheless watching. And that was a comforting thought.

"Look at you!" Aragorn cried with a wide grin on his face, running up to her and then carefully circling her, his eyes running up and down the length of her dress while Alana tried her very best to stifle her snickers. "You look beautiful. Are you excited?"

"Yes, _muindor_ , I am very excited," she replied with a smile. "Have you got our rings?"

Aragorn nodded, holding up his hand to show the little box covered in black suede. "Right here," he said firmly, and Alana smiled.

"Then I think that's everything," she said with one final grin at her friends. Even Bergni was beaming at her, and Alana liked to believe that the chasm between them had shrunk a little with this day. She sucked in a deep breath. "Okay," she said at last. "I'm ready."

* * *

Lord Elrond had Alana's arm resting in the crook of his elbow, the two of them waiting for the large doors leading into the celebration hall to open. The buzzing hum of hundreds of voices permeated its way through the door, causing Alana to start feeling jittery. She just wanted this to be finally _over._

"Of all the ways I expected this to go, I must admit, you have surprised me by coming up with something even I did not imagine."

Alana glanced over at Lord Elrond with a perplexed expression on her face. "The ways you expected what to go?"

"Your wedding," he said with an amused smile. "I never imagined you would wed a dwarf, let alone in a kingdom built within the confines of a mountain. It seems to go against everything I know of you, and yet... I do not think I have ever seen you happier." He patted her hand gently. "I will miss you, _pinig_ , but your happiness brings me joy. You are best suited here, I think."

Alana smiled sadly. "I will miss you too, and I cannot thank you enough for all that you have given my family and myself in these past few years. I hope our friendship may continue long into the future, even if we do not see each other for all that time."

Elrond smiled. "I will make sure of it."

That was the moment that the great doors creaked and swung open, and Alana found herself facing the eyes of the entire kingdom. Stood before her were the dwarves of Erebor and the Iron Hills, all of them dressed in their finery. Beyond them were the elves of Mirkwood and Rivendell, and beyond that... beyond that were her family. Kili and Fili stood on either side of the aisle, dressed in their ceremonial robes and the crowns that she'd had a great hand in designing, each with one hand resting on the hilt of their swords. Beyond that stood Dwalin - as the General of Thorin's armies, it was traditional for him to accept her from the man who took up the role of her father, and then hand her over to Thorin. In this way, the General was showing his acceptance of the King's wife, and wordlessly declaring his loyalty to the new Queen.

Thorin stood behind his best friend, his eyes alight with love and barely restrained joy, dressed in the blue colours of his house. His hair was devoid of all braids but two - the one that marked him as the heir of Durin's line, and the one that would from this day henceforth hold the mark of their marriage. She had an identical braid in her own hair. Thorin, like his nephews, had his sword at his hip, and today he also wore his crown upon his head.

Balin, Dís, and Aragorn were beyond even Thorin. The former was officiating both their wedding, and Alana's ascension to the role of Queen Under the Mountain, while Aragorn was just to the side, his hands firmly grasping the little box that held their wedding rings. Dís had been given a similar job - she was to hold on to the beads that were to be woven into their hair. The wooden bead that Alana had carved had been sketched for its design, and the very same smith who had crafted their rings had also made her bead for her. She hadn't known about that until this time yesterday.

She and Elrond began to move forward, the standing rows of dwarves bowing their heads low in reverence to their new Queen. Alana tried not to let her nerves show, but she couldn't be sure of how successful she was being. The fact that Lord Elrond showed no indication that anything was amiss gave her hope, however.

At the end of the aisle, Lord Elrond bowed his head to her, before gently cupping her face in his hand. As an elf, such open displays of affection were not common, so Alana knew how rare and precious this was. She gave him a watery smile, knowing there were no words that could properly communicate how dear he was to her. His smile made it seem that he understood perfectly.

Dwalin stepped forward then, taking Alana's empty arm, and Elrond moved away. With her other side now covered, Alana moved her attention to the warrior beside her, who was... resolutely avoiding her gaze.

She realised why a second later, noting the light sheen of water in his eyes. A smile touching her lips, she faced forward once more, and made no comment.

She walked only five steps with Dwalin, but they were perhaps the most drawn-out steps of her life. She was impatient to begin, and yet at the same time she couldn't help but savour this moment. This was perhaps the most important day of her life - she would be damned if she didn't make the most of every second of it.

Thorin smiled broadly at her when at last she came to a stop beside him. He took her hands, Dwalin disappearing off to the side with a bow, and then the two faced Balin.

As with Thorin's coronation, the traditional use of khuzdul had been foregone, instead the common tongue being used for all vows and oaths.

"This day commemorates more than just the union of these two souls," Balin began, his voice loud and clear, "it commemorates the beginning of a new era. Today we join together Thorin, King Under the Mountain, and Alana, beloved leader of the dúnedain, and member of the royal Gondorian bloodline. This day we unite not just two nations, but two hearts and minds, who have found their match in one another."

He bowed to Thorin, who smiled and took Alana's hands, staring directly into her eyes as he spoke. "In this marriage, I swear that I will ask nothing more of you than to be none other than yourself. I swear to love what I know of you, and trust in what I have yet to learn. I will have no stronger belief in anyone, and I will have endless faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and through all that life may give us."

Alana smiled and confidently repeated his words. These were the marriage vows of her people, spoken now to honour the part of her heritage that she was leaving behind, but had been fundamental in turning her into the woman she was now.

Alana prompted Aragorn forward by sending him a quick wink, and he did so quickly, bearing the rings they would exchange. Alana took the larger of the two and slid it onto Thorin's finger, saying as she did, "With this ring I seal my oath, to love no other until my dying day. May Eru bless this promise, and henceforth, hold me to my word."

Thorin then did the same. Were this an ordinary wedding, that would be it. But it was not, and they were forced to wait longer before their union was officially sealed.

Alana spoke first this time, speaking from her heart instead of from practised words - such was the tradition of the dwarves. No true vow could mean more than the one that was spoken directly from the heart. "Ours is a most unlikely love," she said, smiling broadly at him when Thorin released a light chuckle of agreement. "It is completely nonsensical, and by all rights should have collapsed at the first hurdle... But it didn't. It endured. It has lived on through so many dangers, so many trials, that I do not believe it could possibly be broken by anything. This day marks the beginning of our lives together... The beginning of our forever. And may it also mark the day I declare to the world that I will _never_ love anyone as much as I love you. All the world will fade away before I leave your side, and if you need me, you need only ask. I love you, Thorin. Now, and forever. __Anthon '_ ûr _ _nín_ _angin._ _(I give you my heart.)_ "

Thorin's face was set, but she recognised the emotion he was trying to hold back. She didn't even bother trying, the tears of elation falling freely down her cheeks. "Alana... _**atamanel**_... there are no words in any of the languages of this world that could come close to describing the love I hold for you in my heart. Neither could they even touch upon how grateful I am to the meddling wizard who forced our paths to cross." A grin flickered onto Alana's face, and around the room, a few chuckles could be heard echoing in the vastness of the space. The amusement faded quickly, and Thorin became deadly serious once more. "I could have walked on this earth for a hundred more years and never found you, and the thought of that terrifies me beyond measure. Now that you are here, by my side, the thought of you disappearing is... far more than I can bear. You are my One, my _**bad**_ _ **gûn**_ _ **a**_ , and I will treasure you until the end of time. A thousand ages may pass, but for the love in my heart, they will seem only as a breath of wind passing across a single moment. My love for you is not bound by something as trivial as time. It is eternal." He placed at hand on her cheek, tenderly wiping away one of the tears that fell, before he whispered for her ears only, " _ **Mâ akh**_ _ **ù**_ _ **thuzhur zurkur ze. Mahignit. (We will be forever as one. I promise.)**_ "

Dís stepped forward then, opening her hand and producing their beads. Thorin picked up his, snapping it into place over the braid that already hung on the left side of her head. She mirrored him, pausing just for a moment to stare at him, to take him in and finally allow herself to believe that this incredible dwarf was her _husband_.

Their fingers tightly clasped together, and they squeezed hands briefly, before Thorin stepped back, and Alana was left on her own. She sucked in a deep breath, then slowly lowered herself onto one knee, bowing her head. She could feel her heart thundering in her chest, could hear its beat in her ears.

Yet through all that, Balin's words pierced through her with effortless ease. "Alana of the dúnedain, daughter of Gilraen and Arathorn, you have thus proven yourself every inch the Queen you are expected to be. Let it be now, on the day of your union with our King, that you swear an oath to his people, so that the burden he carries may be shared. Do you swear to pledge yourself to the good of this kingdom, to uphold its laws and customs, to execute your judgements with mercy and justice, and to commit yourself to your people, above all else?"

Somehow, and she honestly didn't know _how_ , Alana's voice didn't waver as she answered. "I hereby swear to commit myself to the people of this kingdom, to its friends and allies, so that this land may prosper long after the end of our reign. I swear to stand by the King and lead this kingdom through times of peace and times of war, with the best interests of its people at heart. I pledge that I will be the voice of mercy when judgement is due, but will ensure that the law is obeyed, and justice is served in all cases. I hereby give myself, and all that I am, to the well-being of this land. This is my oath, made under the watchful eye of Mahal, our Maker, who will hold me to my word."

Balin smiled down at her, and Thorin stepped forward, holding a crown in his hands that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. The crown was smaller than his, yet seemed to glitter all the more. While Thorin's was both silver and gold, Alana's was gold only, with sapphires embedded in the taller front half, and small diamonds circling the rest of the band. There were many of the bold geometric shapes the dwarves loved engraved in the metal, but equally her own race was honoured in its design - much like the dress, it had finer curves that strangely complimented the jagged lines. With a barely suppressed smile, Thorin lowered the crown onto her her head.

"From this day henceforth," he began, his eyes remaining cemented on hers even though he was addressing the whole room, "you shall be known only as Alana, Queen Under the Mountain." Then, holding out his hands, Thorin helped her back into a standing position. The two turned to face Balin again, who was grinning broadly at them.

"Today is a day of celebration," the white haired dwarf called out into the crowd, "for a new member has been added to our royal family. Let all her days by the King's side be blessed."

He bowed his head, giving Thorin a subtle wink, and with a broad grin Thorin's hand cupped the back of Alana's neck, and he brought her forward so that he could claim her lips with his own. Whoops of joy and cheer echoed through the call, and Alana couldn't stop herself from laughing with the utter elation that burst out of her chest.

Thorin beamed back at her, kissed her once more, before the two turned to face the crowd together, and Thorin shouted over the din, "Long live the Queen!"

His call was mirrored by every single person in the room.


	25. Unexpected Guests

**A/N: Hi, guys! Thanks to everyone for all your support and kind words about the wedding chapter (well, the main one, anyway). As you will soon find out, the wedding actually goes on to the end of this chapter too. Spoiler alert: more unexpected arrivals... ;) P.S. For those of you interested, I will be posting the M-rated wedding night scenes from this story in a separate fic within the next hour or so, so keep an eye out ;P**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: sesshoumarucrazy, carter. rebecca. e, theta-Skywalker-587, wildcat717, milkybar and RyanDance.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **animexchick: Heh, thanks!**

 **alxxman: Thank you...! As for LotR, I don't know yet - I have a few ideas, but they're pretty fragmented so far, so we'll have to see once we get to the end of this one. But it was always my intention to do so, yeah.**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Haha, yuppp! :)**

 **CrystalVixen93: Thanks, and here ya go!**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Haha, perhaps it would be best not to get too far ahead of yourself, hmm...? ;)**

* * *

 **'I like large parties. They're so intimate. At small parties there isn't any privacy.' - F. Scott Fitzgerald**

* * *

 **Chapter 25:**

Though Alana was never in any doubt of this particular fact, one thing was proven that night - dwarves knew how to throw an excellent party. The chaos of the party following Thorin's coronation could have been called _tame_ next to this. Food was being thrown, no less than five drinking competitions were taking place, and of all the dwarves doing neither of them, most were on the dance floor, dancing and whooping as if it were they that had been married.

She and Thorin had danced together four times now, having long ago left their crowns on the table at the top of the hall. She'd also danced with Bofur, and Fili, and Legolas, and Lord Elrond, and Aragorn (twice), and with Lord Dain as well. Most of the night, however, she spent by Thorin, both of them talking and laughing as if nothing had changed, and yet they were both painfully aware that something _had_ changed.

"You know," Alana mused thoughtfully, taking a sip of the wine that was sat in front of her, "this time last year we would have been resting in Rivendell with the rest of the company. It feels like an age has gone by, and yet..."

"It has only been a few months," Thorin finished with a smile. "Indeed, time acts in strange ways sometimes. So much is different now, compared to how it was back then, and yet I do not remember it changing. Only upon looking back do I see how much you have changed in my life." He smiled tenderly, picking up her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Never let me forget to tell you how much I love you. I endeavour to remind you at least once every day, so you may never doubt my feelings for you."

"Thorin," Alana murmured with a fond chuckle, "while I appreciate the thought, you do not need to tell me every day for me to know that."

"Nonetheless, I shall do it. Because you deserve nothing else, **_atamanel_**."

Alana rolled her eyes, though she was still smiling. "Well, I'm hardly going to complain, am I?" Thorin opened his mouth to reply, but then his eyes skipped over her shoulder and narrowed ever so slightly. Frowning, Alana followed his gaze, and upon seeing who had caused his change in demeanour, smiled politely and bowed her head. "My Lord Thranduil," she greeted. "We are glad to see that you could make it."

Thranduil eyed her for a moment, before a shadow of a smile flickered into place. "It can't have been easy to persuade your husband to send those invitations our way, my Lady. But I am... pleased... that you succeeded. I am glad that the peace we have begun has been, so far, maintained."

Chuckling, Alana tilted her head to the side. "As am I, my Lord, and no matter what may be implied otherwise, we both are happy you could come. When you had not arrived by this morning, I will admit that I grew worried you would not arrive at all."

Thranduil frowned. "There was a slight delay in our leaving - the spiders of Dol Guldur rose up again and drew too close to our borders. I could not leave the forest without first ensuring the safety of its people."

Alana smiled. "I understand." And she did, in a way that was far beyond the understanding her simple words implied.

She had always believed Thranduil to be cold, to have no care for the people under his rule, and to even be cruel at times. On the outside, that was exactly how he seemed. But Thranduil was not heartless - on the contrary, perhaps he appeared this way from feeling _too_ much. He was not without his faults, but he protected his kingdom and, by extension, the many hundreds of lives living within its borders. Sometimes, the risks were simply too great to allow threats close, whether those threats were true or not. Though she still liked to believe that she herself would have acted differently in the same situation, she could understand the reasoning behind the imprisonment of the company within his walls.

Thranduil glanced over at the hall again. "Many years have passed since my eyes last took in a sight such as this," he murmured absently. "Elves and dwarves and men in one room, with no ill will between them." He glanced at her. "You have somehow found a way to close the gaps between our races, Queen Alana, and for that you must be commended. It may be many years yet before we choose to call each other friend, but this is a definitive step in the right direction."

Alana hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose you are right. Though I would say they are getting on well enough right now." She hadn't really payed enough attention before to notice, but many of the drinking competitions had participants of all races. They were competing, yes, but there seemed to be no real animosity. In fact, this was perhaps enough to be called camaraderie, even if it only was after a mug or six of ale.

"Nothing has been proven to better lower the guard of any creature than alcohol," Thorin murmured with amusement, speaking up for the first time since Thranduil's arrival. He gave the elven King a cool look. "Perhaps that is where we have gone wrong these past centuries - if it was that drink were made freely available during our meetings, I think we would not so often come to disagreement."

"If that were the case, we would need to ensure someone wrote down every word spoken - so there are no lost or confused details."

"Something tells me that would be a good idea regardless of the presence of ale and wine," Alana mused absentmindedly, eyes drawn to the table at the very opposite of the room, from which there came a rousing cheer. It seemed the victor of that particular contest had been found. She turned back to Thranduil with a smile. "But now is not the time to be thinking of politics and such things. This is a time for festivity! Enjoy it, as much as you can." She gave a wry grin. "I know this is not what you would usually consider to be a party."

"Indeed not. Though I suppose I can understand it's appeal, in a way." He looked around. "It has been some time since I have seen many of my people so carefree."

"One does tend to lose all inhibitions in an environment such as this. There is so much going on that no one lingers on any one thing for very long. That gives a sense of security to do as you wish without fear of judgement."

Thorin chuckled beside her. "And you are speaking from experience, aren't you, **_atamanel_**?" Alana shot him a flat look, but Thorin just laughed again. "That is one of my fondest memories."

"Which would that be?" Kili asked, appearing as if from nowhere.

"The first time I saw Alana drunk."

"And the _only_ time," Alana cut in, frowning. "Something I note for which you have yet to return the favour."

"Oh, you don't want to see uncle when he's drunk," Kili cut in, sipping from his tankard even as he did so. "Ever so dull is he. Sure, he can't walk properly and he swears more than you might think, but he never takes part in any contests or anything like that."

"Oh, I think it would be quite amusing to see Thorin stumbling about," Alana mused, winking at her new husband when he rolled his eyes. "It would make a nice change from his usual composure and... confidence."

"Be sure to invite me when it happens," Thranduil piped up, making Alana wink at him in return. The elven King gave a light chuckle, before tilting his head to the side in polite acknowledgement and disappearing further into the room.

Thorin stared after the elf for a moment, before turning to Alana. "If you _ever_ invite him to a join us in a night of drinking-"

"I get the picture, Thorin," Alana assured him with a laugh. "And I would never do that to you, I promise." She leaned forward and pecked him lightly on the lips. "Now," she said with a feigned seriousness to her tone, "I need to have a dance with my nephew."

"Who? Me?" Kili seemed surprised that Alana had called him out, and yelped when she grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him from his chair.

The music playing at the present time was bouncy and cheerful, and Alana and Kili easily managed to integrate themselves into the dance, weaving and dodging around the others that were already twirling around on the dance floor. Dancing with Kili was different to dancing with Thorin - with him it felt clunky and slightly awkward, whereas with Thorin it just somehow... worked. Like the two of them could anticipate each other's every move and know how to respond.

Still, by the end of the dance she and Kili were both laughing and both had enjoyed it immensely.

That said, they had barely parted from one another when they were swept up by their new partners - Kili dancing with his mother, while Fili claimed Alana for a second dance.

She chuckled. "I had no idea I was such a catch, today of all days," she teased him, the two of them spinning around the room. "How are you, Fili?"

"I am well, though that is a given, as this is a feast and all feasts tend to raise my spirits. What about you, my Queen?"

Alana rolled her eyes, though there was an easy grin on her face as she replied. "I'm very happy, as you damn well know, I'm sure." She paused for a second. "In fact, I don't think I've ever been happier in my entire life."

Fili shared her grin. "I am glad to hear it," he answered, spinning her away from him, and then drawing her back in again. "Now, I have a request from you."

She pouted. "Oh, I should have known better than to believe it was merely the pleasure of my company that you sought."

Fili rolled his eyes. "Don't be so melodramatic, _**irak'amad**_."

"Alright then," she said, smiling again. "What can I help you with?"

"Kili," Fili said simply, and Alana stumbled in a step as a wave of concern washed over her and left an icy chill in her blood.

"What's wrong? Is he alright?"

Fili nodded quickly. "Aye, he's okay. There's nothing wrong with him, I promise. Well, nothing save that he is a blind idiot who cannot see what is right in front of his face."

Alana chuckled. "Oh?"

Fili frowned. "Do you not see it either?"

"See what?"

"Makaylen."

Alana blinked. "Oh. You think she has feelings for him?"

"Think?! Mahal, Alana, it couldn't have been more obvious than a wolf amongst sheep!"

Alana chuckled. "If you say so. And what is you request, _súyon_?"

"I want you to help me... make him see."

Alana frowned. "And telling him is not the answer because...?"

Shaking his head, Fili twirled her around again. "Kili is as stubborn as Thorin. He would never believe me unless he saw it for himself, and came to believe it by his own means. With something like this, I don't think telling him would be enough to convince him."

Alana hummed idly in agreement. "Yes, I suppose you might be right. But, Fili... I am not so sure that Makaylen seeks anything more from your brother than the friendship that the two of them already share."

Fili huffed. "Then it seems you are blind as well!"

"Fili," Alana reminded him gently, "I know how it feels to be in love."

"But you were not aware of it happening!" he argued. "You were not able to watch it happen right in front of your eyes. I did! I watched every moment between you and Thorin, so I know what to look out for. And I am seeing all the same signs with those two!"

Alana sighed. "I'm not saying I don't believe you," she stated placatingly. "But I... I just cannot see it for myself." They spun around each other again, the final notes of the songs ringing out. "But if you want to find a helping pair of hands, ask your mother. She sees the same things that you do."

Then the two finished the dance with one final, sweeping motion. The crowd around them applauded (at least, those who were watching and paying attention to the dance did so), and the two of them left the dance floor.

"Alright," Fili agreed. "But if I ask for your help in something particular, will you?"

Alana smiled. "Of course. It would be my pleasure."

The two were confused when the doors at the far end of the room suddenly opened. Any guests wishing to leave early in the night were directed out of one of the three side doors in the hall - the main door was for the arrival of new attendees.

Alana's eyes widened when she saw the four men and single woman waltzing into the room - none of them were dressed for a party, but rather for the outside world. They all wore dark cloaks and boots, with garb in various shades of black, grey, and green. Each had a sword at their hip, and two bore bows and quivers too. The whole room fell utterly silent, and you probably could have heard a pin drop.

Then from amidst the silence there came a voice, shocked and utterly confused. "Halbarad?" Every head swivelled to face their stunned Queen, who stepped forward towards the strange group.

One of the men stepped forth to meet her. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a mop of black hair and a thick, untrimmed beard that was likely upsetting quite a few members of the watching crowd. His eyes were the colour of steel, calculating in appearance, yet as they looked upon Alana they were warm. He bowed his head to her, his arm crossed over his chest and his fist over his heart. "It is good to see you, my Lady."

"What...? What are you all doing here?" She glanced behind him at her fellow Rangers, all of whom she had known she was a child. "Tellia, Aldon, Logon, Dammion... Why have you travelled so far from home?"

The lone woman amongst the group stepped forward. She too had dark hair, and her eyes were such a pale grey that they normally looked silver, though in the warm light of the numerous torches around the room they now flickered like gold. "We did not mean to interrupt the celebration, Alana. We came to see you here, to say our goodbyes."

Alana frowned. "And the Shire?"

"Belegion remained in the Shire with our fellows to ensure the safety of the halflings," Halbarad assured her. "We could not bear to let you leave without a proper farewell." He glanced around. "Though, these are perhaps not the circumstances we expected to arrive to see. What is the occasion?"

Alana snickered lightly, and Halbarad raised an eyebrow. "You just crashed my wedding, Halbarad," she told him, still smiling.

Tellia squeaked, then flushed and covered her mouth. A few chuckles circled the room. "Truly?" she asked, laughing with glee when Alana nodded. " _Edrego_ _l _vêr__ _! (That's wonderful!)_ " She stepped up to Alana and clasped a hand between two of her own. Alana smiled in bemusement. "Congratulations, _mello_ _n nín_. We heard of your plans to stay here, but we did not know that you would be married so soon."

Alana chuckled. "Well, you know I was never the patient type," she teased, winking at her friend. Tellia was one of the few other female Rangers, and though she was older than Alana by twelve years, her smaller stature and child-like temperament meant that Alana acted and felt like the older one. There was also a small matter of the fact that Alana was the leader of the Rangers of the north, and so had to frequently command the likes of the those around her. She glanced around. "What are you lot standing around for?" she called, her grin still in place. "This is a party! Come on, get the music started again!"

It took a few seconds, but a new song started, and then the crowds began to go back to what they were doing. The rest of the Rangers stepped forward to greet Alana.

"It is good to see you, my Lady," Aldon greeted, bowing like Halbarad had done. "You must forgive our untimely intrusion."

Alana waved him off. "I am just glad you could make it, unexpected though your arrival was! Come, I would like you to meet my new family." Alana led them up to the high table, where Thorin, Kili, Fili, Dís and all the company were stood, clearly expecting her to do a round of introductions. "My friends, these are the members of the company that freed this mountain from the tyranny of Smaug." She went through each of them, pausing to allow them to give their hearty 'at your service's to her kin, before she reached her most immediate family. She placed a hand on Fili and Kili's shoulders. "These here are Fili and Kili, my new nephews. I'm sure you'll come to learn this pretty quickly if you get a proper chance to spend time with them, but as a start, they are basically exactly like Elladan and Elrohir."

"And I thought two was more than enough," Halbarad grumbled good-naturedly.

"They can probably hear you, you know," Kili pointed out, grinning.

Halbarad smirked. "And whoever said anything about me not wanting them to?"

Alana rolled her eyes. "This here," she said, drawing their eyes back to her, "is Dís, my new sister-in-law, and the boys' mother."

"A pleasure," Dís replied easily, bowing her head. "It is good to finally meet some of Alana's people."

"You've met my mother," Alana pointed out.

"Yeah, but she's your _mother_ ," Kili said, pulling an odd face. "She doesn't coun- OW!"

Alana folded her arms across her chest, though there was a distinct satisfaction on her face. She got quite a lot of enjoyment from smacking the back of his head. "That was rude," she grumbled, while Kili just rubbed the sore spot on his head and muttered curses under his breath in khuzdul. Alana shook her head. "Ignore him, he's had too much to drink tonight," she said, making her Rangers grin at her. "And finally - last but not least, as they say - this is my husband, Thor-"

"Thorin Oakenshield," Halbarad murmured in surprise. "When you said you had to move to Erebor I did not realise that it was because you were becoming her Queen." He bowed low at the waist, the other Rangers following his example. "Well met, honourable King. Your stories are well known to our kind."

"And yours to me," Thorin replied with a tilt of his head. "Alana always speaks very fondly of her kin in the west."

"And we of her," Tellia replied with a smile. "I suppose I owe you thanks, my King." Everyone's eyebrows rose at that, and Thorin's questioning gaze prompted her to elaborate. "It has been longer than any of us care to recall since we have seen the Lady Alana so happy."

Thorin smiled slightly, glancing over at Alana, who was biting her bottom lip as she tried to fight off the pink blush threatening to rise in her cheeks. "I do believe I owe you thanks also," he said. "For allowing your own Queen to stay here, with me. I know it could not have been easy."

"I do not believe we could have stopped her if we tried," Dammion said, laughing lightly. "Alana is nothing if not stubborn as a mule."

"I think that might be why she fits in so well with us," Fili piped up, grinning widely.

Alana let out a sigh, dropping inelegantly into her chair beside Thorin. "Why do I get the feeling you lot are just going to tease me behind my back all night?"

"Because you know us," came the simple response.

"Oh, aye," Gloin said from the side. "There are many stories to be shared between us, I think."

"But first," Halbarad said, lips twitching upwards, "I think we wouldn't mind a tankard or two of ale, if you would be gracious enough to offer one."

There was a rousing cheer from the company, and they all bustled off to find the Rangers some food and drink, and to share stories that would likely be at Alana's expense.

She sighed, turning in her chair and then leaning back, so her head came to rest on Thorin's chest. "I love those guys, but they really are difficult to deal with."

A low, rumbling laugh broke free of Thorin's chest. "It is no wonder that you grew so close to my company - your own Rangers are as similar to us as you are."

"It is both a blessing and a curse," Alana grumbled.

Pressing his lips to her forehead, Thorin pointed out, "Were you able to, we both know you would not change a thing, no matter how mad they drive you."

She smiled, watching as her two families came together with laughter and light. "No," she agreed, taking his hand and weaving their fingers together. "I would not."


	26. Fond Farewells

**A/N: I know, I know, this is really late, and I'm SO sorry for that. It's just that I've been ill since Saturday and I've barely had the strength to get out of bed, let alone write anything. Still, I managed to get this done eventually, and I just hope it lives up to standard. Thank you all so, so much for your patience, and hopefully things will continue as normal (so long as I don't get worse again).**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: Bunny's daughter and AnnieBananie1789.**

 **Thanks also to these people for following/favouriting 'Secrets Of The Night' (I'll probably put a note on there if and when I post a second chapter, but I don't think it hurts to have it here too): StarWarsHarryPotterfangirl2788, StTudnoBright, NESSAANCALIME6913, MissCallaLilly, Sandra9417, Sparky She-Demon, animexchick, Arianna Le Fay, AnnieBananie1789 and IfYouRememberMe.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Sparky She-Demon: To be honest, I think everyone wants to see Thorin drunk ;) As for whether we'll see it... not sure yet.**

 **Faron Oakenshield: Aha, glad you thought so! :)**

 **CrystalVixen93: Thanks, and here ya go! :P  
**

 **ro781727: Well, now you know ;)**

* * *

 **'The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good thins don't always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things or make them unimportant' - The 11th Doctor, Doctor Who**

* * *

 **Chapter 26:**

The sun rose in a lazy manner the next morning, as if mimicking the feelings of the new King and Queen of the Lonely Mountain. It was nearly noon before either of them stirred from their rest.

Alana was the first to wake. She shifted in her sleep, a frown flickering over her features as she became aware of the imbalance of heat around her body. One part of her felt like she was being held in a furnace, while the other half felt like it was facing a cold wind. Blinking blearily, she took a moment of confusion to realise she was in an unfamiliar room, before the memories of the night before hit her.

By Mahal, she was _married._ To a handsome, stubborn dwarf King, no less.

Alana tilted her head to the side, eyes eagerly drinking the sight of Thorin still held in the blissful clutches of sleep, his face lax and peaceful. It was only then that she noticed her pillow was, in fact, Thorin's arm, and with a soft groan she sat up, not caring that the covers bunched up at her waist as she did, leaving her torso bare to the world.

Glancing back at Thorin, she realised that, in sitting up, she had shifted the blanket over him, too. All of him was now uncovered, except his knees and feet, and Alana took her sweet time taking him in, admiring his naked figure and relishing in the fact that it was hers - and hers alone - to ogle in this manner.

She and Thorin were married _at last._ It felt very much like an entire age had come and gone while they waited, but they were finally husband and wife, in every way that they could be.

Her eyes snapped back to him when Thorin sat up - having woken so quietly that she didn't notice - and his chest pressed close to her back. He dropped a tender kiss to her bare shoulder. " ** _Bakn galikh, (Good morning,)_** " she murmured, turning her head so that their lips could meet, and immediately she lost herself in the feel and taste of him.

Thorin's body was incredibly hot, radiating warmth with an intensity that would have caused her to worry for his health if she didn't know that this was perfectly natural for a dwarf. Her body soaked in his heat like an overeager sponge, the air much cooler in the absence of any tactile barriers.

Thorin's lips trailed along Alana's jaw, spent a few moments fussing over a sensitive point behind her ear, then trailed down to attack the column of her throat. Releasing a contented sigh, Alana tilted her head back and gave him better access to her neck. Her skin already was decorated with various bruises and marks - all courtesy of the night before - but neither she nor Thorin had any qualms against adding a few more to the mix.

Their moment was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

Thorin growled low in his throat, a dark shadow crossing over his eyes, and he barked at the knocker without bothering to hide the anger and annoyance in his tone. " ** _ _ **Î**_ mi! (Leave!)_**"

There was a huff on the other side of the door, but then the sound of retreating footsteps. Thorin grumbled under his breath.

Alana turned in his hold so that she was facing him, and, with a soft hand on his chin, pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. " _ **N _ **ê** khuzrul, ****yâsûn.** **(Don't be angry, husband,)_**_" she murmured against his lips, stealing another quick kiss from him while feeling the thundering pressure of his heartbeat against her fingers. " _ **Imgilzu. (Calm down.)**_ "

Thorin sighed, offering up a strained smile. "Forgive me," he whispered, pressing his lips once more to her own. "I know we are the King and Queen, but just for today, I wish to pretend that we are simply like everyone else, so we might have our peace to enjoy the beginning of our marriage."

"Unfortunately, I don't think the rest of the kingdom will allow us that," came the soft reply. Alana's fingers tangled in his hair. "But for now," she began again, a roguish smirk curling at her lips, "there is clearly nothing of urgency that requires our attention. I believe we ought to... make the most of what little privacy we have. Don't you agree?"

Thorin groaned softly, fisting his hands in her hair and slamming his lips down on hers, instantly starting up a battle of wills that neither conceded. Eventually the lack of air drew attention to itself, and they pulled apart.

"You will be the death of me, woman," Thorin grumbled, pulling her back down onto the bed so that she was sprawled on top of him.

Humming, Alana grinned. "And what a delightful death it would be." Then her stance became more predatory, and she lunged forward, eyes and mind focused solely on one thing: the irresistible dwarf that was her husband.

* * *

The newlywed couple were grateful that nothing else came up that could have interrupted their fun, but they did agree that they had spent too long in isolation, and so put on their clothes and left to continue their lives. Well, eventually they did. It was perhaps three hours past noon when they finally showed their faces, accepting the well-wishes and congratulations offered to them by their people as they crossed paths in the hallways. Their joy was contagious in that sense - the whole mountain seemed alive with light and laughter that day, and there were many who were still drinking and feasting in celebration of the royal wedding.

And while indeed there was nothing urgent to do, Thorin and Alana were called away by their respective tormentors to complete the various jobs that _should_ have been done that morning. They were lucky that there was a level of understanding amongst their companions, and so neither was given a hard time for their absence.

Alana's light mood was brought low later that day.

She was visiting the few guests that remained in the mountain, and upon greeting Lord Elrond, she received some news that broke her heart slightly.

"We are returning to Rivendell at first light tomorrow," he informed her. "Your mother and brother are to return to the valley alongside."

Face becoming pale and eyes widening in horror, Alana managed to squeak out, "T-Tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid so, little one. We have been away from our home for far too long already." He placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "You will see your family again, so do not despair on that account."

"But I won't get to see Aragorn growing up," she whispered, eyes watering. "He will be a stranger when he ventures back here. He... he will _know_. And once he learns of who we are, he will _never_ be the same again." She shook her head. "He may not wish to see me."

Lord Elrond gave her a blank look, before letting out a long-suffering sigh. "You underestimate dearly the value that he places in you, Alana. You will be the first person he goes to, I would wager, in his time of need. He knows, as I know, that you will always be willing to support him."

Alana frowned. "Of course I would!"

"Then you need not fear that he may not return. He will. And, in fact, if it worries you so much..." Lord Elrond trailed off, turning away and walking to the little drawer sitting comfortably at his bedside. He open it, and drew out a small ring box. He smiled. "It has been my intention to give this to you ever since the invitation to attend Thorin's coronation arrived in my office, but perhaps now you will see this as further assurance that Aragorn _will_ return to you."

Alana took the box with hesitant hands, glanced up at her foster father, and then opened it. The breath instantly rushed from her lips. Wide eyes shot back up to the elven Lord. "I cannot take this!"

Lord Elrond arched an eyebrow. "And why not?"

"This ring has as much value and history as the Arodroch ring I stumbled upon! I know that this has been in your care for a millennia, and I know you mean to pass it to the heir of the Gondorian line!"

"Until Aragorn is of age, you are the heir," Elrond pointed out. "And so, when the time comes that he learns the truth of his heritage, I will send him to you. That way you may answer any questions he may have, and you may pass the ring to him."

Alana frowned, but then glanced down at the ring again. It was famous to her line, having had a presence amongst her kin in various points throughout history. The ring of Barahir. It bore the shape of two serpents with emerald eyes, one devouring and one supporting a crown of golden flowers. At its centre was another emerald, encompassed by the snake twins. The gem gleamed even in the dull light of Elrond's guestroom.

The new Queen of Erebor raised her eyes to meet those of the elven Lord, hand closing around the box and snapping the lid shut. "I will keep it, as you wish," she told him. "But do not wait too long to tell Aragorn the truth. It is not an easy thing to come to terms with, and I have a feeling it will hit him hard. He may well need the extra time."

Elrond bowed his head, and while Alana grimaced faintly at the reminder that she should be expecting this kind of response a lot more often now, the Lord himself seemed almost to be smirking. "I know he will be grateful that he has you, when the time comes," he said, adopting a serious aura once more.

Alana nodded idly. "I know that he was the reason I remained sane when you told me," she grumbled, running her hands down her face. "I will make sure to meet you at the front gates tomorrow. And I will do my best to convince Thorin to do the same. You will get nothing less than a proper goodbye, for it is nothing less than you deserve."

Elrond smiled. "Then I suppose I shall see you at dawn, my Queen."

The two bowed to one another, a sense of formality falling over them that made Alana feel a little uncomfortable, but that she knew she couldn't fight. Some things were just going to be... different now. And this was just one of what was likely going to be a great number of such changes, big and small.

As Alana left the guest quarter, she felt a frown falling back into place, and she returned to her room in a half-daze. She would be saying goodbye to her mother, and her little brother, for Mahal only knew how long. A few months' separation was hard enough; how could she bear several _years_?

"You seem troubled, my dear. It is an unbefitting look for someone who has so recently wed the man she loves."

Alana sighed, facing the white haired dwarf who was also wearing a deep frown - though his seemed to be to show his concern for her. "My family are leaving tomorrow," she told him, her voice cracked and strained. "And I doubt I will see them again any time soon. It will be years - perhaps a decade or more - before I see them again." She sighed. "I do not wish to dampen the mood, but I cannot help it."

"I understand, lassie," Balin stated compassionately. "I have not been parted from my brother for such a length of time as that in all my long life. But you are strong; you'll get past it."

Alana smiled wanly. "I'm glad you have such confidence in me," she murmured. "It seems I can't muster the strength to have much faith in myself these days." She smiled. "Still, with you lot pushing that thought in my head, I'm sure I'll be back to how I was before in no time."

Balin's frown did not fade; in fact, if anything, it became more set in his face. "You're not struggling, are you, lass? Being Queen is no laughing matter, but you seem to be able to handle it alright. Yet, I wonder..."

"No, the workload is fine," Alana said, smiling in thanks at his concern. "I just... miss some things, you know? I wish Bilbo were here, or Gandalf. I know that you are all here and that I see you daily but... seeing one of them would be nice. Like reminding myself that the foundations of all our friendships are not just... stories. I feel like none of this is quite real."

Balin placed a comforting hand on her arm. "You'll get through this, lass. Just be sure to talk to Thorin - he is your husband now, after all, and I know that he desires to offer you aid should you need it."

Alana smiled fondly just thinking of him. "Yes, he always did have a rather impressive sense of honour and nobility to him." Her smile became broader. "Thank you, Balin. I don't know how you knew what to say, but I feel a little better now."

Balin grinned, bowing low. "Glad to be of service, my Queen."

Alana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah..."

She continued on down the corridor, Balin's merry laughter still ringing in her ears, and a small smile on her face.

* * *

After another night of enjoying the bliss of being newly married, Alana got up early the next morning. She managed to navigate her way through the maze of clothes scattered on the floor, heading towards the dresser and wardrobe pushed against the eastern wall of the room. She pulled on some underclothes without preamble, and was just sifting through her now rather copious collection of dresses when Thorin's sleep-roughened voice met her ears.

"What has you out of bed so early, _**atamanel**_?"

Alana rolled her eyes, unsurprised that Thorin had forgotten all that she'd told him last night. It was, after all, between two bouts of love-making, so she couldn't really blame him for not focusing on her news. She turned to face him, expression amused. "The elves are leaving today, Thorin," she reminded him patiently. "Along with my mother and brother. I promised to see them off."

Thorin exhaled heavily, flopped back into his pillow, and then reluctantly rolled out of bed. He too then began dressing. Alana was also sure she heard him grumbling under his breath about the 'stupid hour' and how 'elves always had to ruin everything' for him. Alana gave him a deadpan glare at the last one, but Thorin just rolled his eyes, completely unrepentant.

Yes, ladies and gentleman, contrary to popular belief, Thorin Oakenshield was _not_ a morning person.

Still, despite her finding annoyance in the words he spoke, his grumbling attitude was actually a source of amusement for her, and sometimes (okay, most of the time), she also thought he was incredibly adorable. Like a grumbling child. And it touched her that he had no misgivings on letting her see this more immature side of him.

In an attempt to lighten his mood, Alana approached him when she was dressed with his own coat in her hands, passing it to him with a gentle smile. He exhaled, smiling his thanks. She then habitually straightened out the lapels of said coat, ignoring the amused smirk on his lips, and the teasing glint in his eyes. Leaning down, Alana pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Thank you for doing this with me," she whispered.

Thorin's face became serious for a moment, catching the hidden meaning in her words: that she would need all the support she could get to say goodbye to her family without bursting into tears, or running after them and begging for them not to leave. Ever.

He placed his hand, warm and rough, on her cheek. "You know that I would do anything for you, _**amrâlimê**_." His expression changed again. "Though I would have much preferred to do this at a later hour."

Chuckling, Alana placed her lips over his briefly, conveying her sympathy and her gratitude, and Thorin's return kiss was gentle and understanding.

The two of them left their room hand-in-hand, though it was so early that they didn't meet anyone in the corridors, other than the few early-risers amongst the maids and chefs, who bobbed into curtsies or bows when the monarchs passed.

Alana still couldn't get used to that.

The elven party was already preparing their horses to leave when the King and Queen arrived, and Aragorn was the first to spot them.

"Alana!" he cried, rushing towards her. Alana knelt down before he reached her, wrapping her arms around him and then burying her face in his shoulder. He did the same. "Do I have to leave, _muinthel_?" he asked her quietly, so that only she and Thorin could hear. His voice shook. "I don't want to go home. I want to stay here, with you."

Alana sighed, before drawing her courage and gently pushing him back. She placed a hand on his cheek. "You must, little brother. As you said before, Rivendell is your home, just like Erebor is mine. I cannot and will not keep you from it." She tucked a wayward strand of his hair behind his ear. "But I will always be here for you. If you ever need anything - anything at all - you can come here and see me. I promise, I will always do my best to help you." She placed a hand over his chest, feeling his young heart pounding fast against her palm. "Follow this," she instructed him gently. "Above all, listen to your heart and _trust_ it. It will not lead you astray." A smile flickered in place. "And trust your gut, as well. Your instincts are strong already."

Aragorn nodded, sniffling and trying very hard to fight back the tears that threatened. He wasn't completely successful - one tear betrayed him, sliding down his face. "I will miss you, Alana."

"And I you, Estel," she murmured, pressing her lips to his forehead. "But this will not be the last time we see each other, I promise. You will go on to do great things, and you will make me proud."

Aragorn nodded, sniffing again. "I hope so."

Alana smiled. "You will," she said firmly. "There is no doubt in my mind."

Aragorn nodded again, then glanced over at Thorin. "You look after my sister, King Thorin," he instructed firmly, and Thorin's eyebrows twitched in mild surprise. "She is in your care now. Please, do not allow her to get hurt."

"Estel..." Alana murmured, feeling slightly embarrassed that her eleven year old brother would think to order around the King of Erebor.

But Thorin, it seemed, was not bothered. In fact, he seemed almost... humbled. "That you would put the safety of your sister in my hands means a lot, little one," he admitted softly, placing a heavy hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "I will do as you bid, and I swear that ensuring her safety and happiness is my top priority. But you must also look after yourself. Alana will be devastated if anything were to happen to you."

Aragorn nodded, looking determined. He even straightened his back and squared his shoulders. "I will be careful, King Thorin. I swear."

Thorin chuckled. "You need not address me like that, Estel. We are family now."

Aragorn blinked, hesitated, and then surprised everyone by lunging forward and hugging Thorin almost as hard as he had hugged Alana. It was strange to witness, because Aragorn was, in fact, taller than Thorin by an inch or two, but that did nothing to change who needed the greater comfort. Thorin wrapped his arms around the boy, his expression tender. "Thank you for making my 'Lana happy," Alana heard Aragorn murmur.

Thorin smiled. "Believe me," he said in return, "she has done the same for me."

Aragorn nodded, pulling back. He cast one last, wistful glance at the two, before heading towards the horse that he was sharing with Elladan. Elrond's sons nodded to Alana and Thorin, not needing to share any words for them to say goodbye their their little sister; Alana understood. Gilraen approached the two next, hugging Alana close and offering Thorin a warm smile, though there was no such easiness between them as there was between Thorin and Aragorn.

"Look after yourself, my dear," Gilraen instructed Alana firmly, grasping her daughter's hands between her own. "And do not forget to tell me _everything_. I want to be kept up to date with your life. Promise you will write to me?"

"I promise, _naneth_ ," Alana whispered, drawing her mother into another hug.

Gilraen smiled sadly, offered a choked goodbye, and then wandered to mount her own horse.

"We must bid you farewell too, my Queen." Alana blinked, turning in surprise to see her fellow Rangers packed up and ready to leave.

"You arrived only two days ago!" she protested. "You need not leave so soon."

"We promised to return with the elven party," Halbarad told her, stepping forward. "They are leaving today, and so we are going with them. 'Tis a shame to not have had longer here, but we are needed back in the Shire."

Alana sighed, but nodded in understanding. The Rangers who maintained a permanent post around the Shire were too few in number already - they could not afford to remain that way for too long. "I wish your visit wasn't so short," she murmured, hugging her friends, "but I am still glad that you came. I will miss you in the years to come."

"And we will miss you," Halbarad answered with a sorrowful smile, the others nodding behind him. "But our lives are no longer running on the same path. We cannot force them to remain together." He smiled "You belong here, my Queen. We will not begrudge you that - not after seeing it for ourselves."

Alana smiled at her friend, before stepping back to let them mount their horses, all of which had been brought forward by several of the stableboys. "Be safe," she called to the group. "All of you."

"We thank you both for your hospitality," Lord Elrond called to them, bowing his head. "It may be many years before we see each other again, so I wish you both good luck in your future endeavours."

"Likewise, Lord Elrond," Thorin said politely, though Alana had a sneaking suspicion that he meant his words, and had even grown semi-fond of the elven Lord during his stay. Thorin bowed his head. "Look after yourselves, all of you. The world is not as kind as it once was, and you will need each other."

"When we are together," Elrohir piped up, "the world will not defeat us."

Thorin chuckled. "Aye, those are words to live by, to be sure. Fare thee well, and I wish you good fortune."

"Farewell to you both," Elrond replied, smiling, before the party of elves and men turned their horses away from the mountain and began the long journey home.

Thorin turned to Alana several minutes later, the two of them having previously stood in silence, watching the party grow steadily smaller and smaller as it travelled further and further away. "Are you alright?" he asked her, his brows pinched with concern.

"No," she answered honestly. "But I will be. I _have_ to be."

Thorin scoffed. "There is no shame in needing comfort in times like this. They are a part of your family, and leaving family is never easy."

"But you will make it easier," she said with a soft smile, eyes gazing down at him with infinite love and tenderness. "I have some of my family here with me, still. And we have much to look forward to." She looked back in the direction of Dale, where the elven party had headed. "I cannot linger on what I had before; I must remind myself of what remains with me now, in the present. I have much to love and be grateful for. I will weep for those that have left, but I will move on, because I still have many to love all around me."

Thorin smiled. "And we will help you through it all, my love. Just don't forget that you can ask for help, and we not judge you for it."

Alana's answering smile was light and pure. "I won't," she swore. "Now, come. The day is yet young, and we have lots to do before the darkness comes again."

Thorin's exaggerated groan in response to that comment caused Alana's merry laughter to echo through the long corridors of the mountain.


	27. Durin's Day Celebrations

**A/N: Hi, guys, I _know_ this is late again, but I'm still quite ill so I've been struggling to do much of anything recently. Still, this is a relatively long chapter, so I hope it makes up for the extra wait. Enjoy...!**

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 **Faron Oakenshield: She's a tough girl, and she's got lots of support, as you said - she'll get through it just fine :)**

 **Sparky She-Demon: I felt like Thorin needed something to make him seem a little more 'human' (except, as a dwarf, of course). He's got so many amazing strengths, I just figured having him being grouchy in the morning adds to his depth of character. Glad to hear you liked it :)**

 **ro781727: Heh, thanks :) I figured it would allow for a nice sibling moment later on**

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* * *

 **Chapter 27:**

Days, weeks, and then months quickly passed under the reign of the King and Queen. Summer had come and gone, and now autumn had hit home; the air was colder and the rains fell more often, and the trees in the forests surrounding the mountain shifted from green to orange, their leaves starting to sag and fall from the branches. The river sometimes even had small chunks of ice in the water - the shift in temperature apparently causing the river to freeze further upstream.

Thorin and Alana had agreed that some kind of Durin's Day celebration was in order - celebrating not only the death of Smaug and the end of his hold on the mountain, but also Alana's birthday. Though her birthday was actually on the anniversary of the Battle of the Five Armies, that was going to be a far from joyous day, so Thorin had suggested they celebrate it on Durin's Day instead, officially at least; he did also insist on them having a small celebration on the actual day of her birth, though only between their close family and friends.

The celebration, it turned out, was to be a tournament between the men of Dale and the dwarves of Erebor. It was Kili's idea, as he had been itching for something of the sort ever since Thorin had mentioned the bi-annual tournaments that they used to have before the fall of Erebor.

Thus they had entered yet another stage of planning. Since it was in collaboration with Bard, it meant frequent trips by Thorin and Alana to and from Dale, though Bard did as many the other way around as them. The camaraderie between the two kingdoms had reached its peak, so much so that Bard and Thorin considered themselves to be good friends of one another. Alana was as deep in the process as her husband, having discovered that she had something of a flair for planning and problem solving, and that was something that was definitely needed here.

It also gave her a break from the near-insufferable councilmen. While most were nice enough, there were the odd few who grated on her nerves whenever they opened their mouths. There were also a few who were somewhat sour about what had happened to Lord Boitu, though none dared to argue against the law.

But even the nice ones irritated her sometimes. Thorin too, to an extent. Because their focus had moved away from the allegiances between the dwarves and elves and men, and had gone past the complicated process of organising the royal wedding, and had dealt with the issue of making sure there wasn't a shortage of food over the winter, which led to the next order of business...

Namely, the possibility of a new heir.

Now, neither Thorin nor Alana were against this. It wasn't like they were actively trying to _prevent_ the possibility of a child. But they had both hoped for not only a little more time and patience from the councilmen, but also for the matter to remain a much more private affair than it currently was - the dwarves of the council seemed to be trying to poke and prod at every part of their lives, to determine the best time and place for _it_ to occur. When things got to that stage, even Thorin could not sit idly by. He had lashed out at the council, equal parts furious and annoyed, and had told them in no uncertain terms that if, and only if, there was no sign of an heir within the first five years of their marriage... then, _and only then,_ could the subject be brought up in a meeting.

Alana had been rather grateful for that intervention, and made a point to showcase her gratitude that very night... much to Thorin's obvious enjoyment.

But at least they had something to keep them occupied - an invitation had been sent out to every kingdom of men and dwarves with a travel time within two months, inviting their best and most accomplished warriors, blacksmiths, archers... almost any sport that could be thought of... to come and participate.

Alana was very much looking forward to participating, as was Thorin, though the two of them had agreed in private to act as if they were not going to be a part of it. It being announced that a monarch was to take part usually led to their victory - not necessarily out of skill, but more out of the other competitors fearing to hurt them. The two knew that the chance of getting injured was relatively high, but neither liked the idea of having an unfair advantage over other competitors.

And thus, their idea of secrecy was born.

With the tournament taking place in just a week, the whole city was in a state of chaos. The guest quarter was being cleaned thoroughly, and the chefs were preparing for the celebration banquet, to be held in honour of whomever won their parts of the tournament.

It was an interesting time. Kili was trying to decide which contest to enter - the rules stated very clearly that a single person may only participate in one contest, and the poor boy was trying to decide whether to compete in the archery contest, or the warrior's tournament. Alana knew which way he'd go in the end, but didn't bother to help him choose. It was, after all, rather amusing to see him so indecisive.

Fili had decided not to take part at all, much to everyone's surprise. He was not the competitive type, or so he told them, unless the contests were small and had no lasting impact. He hated the idea of competing so hard and for so long, and so had instead been offered the job of announcing every contest, and its winner, and just generally running the whole event. Flattered, Fili accepted.

Dís, too, would be sitting out. She was a fierce opponent in the sparring ring, when she wanted to be, but she complained that she hadn't practised enough in the last few decades, and was 'getting too old for it anyway'. Thorin had narrowed his eyes at her for that particular comment, painfully aware of how many years older than his little sister he really was.

Alana had leaned down and quietly whispered in his ear that she _certainly_ didn't think he was old, and the crooked grin he had sent her way made her realise that, perhaps, she could have worded that a little better.

Just two days before the tournament, when the competitors were flowing in a near-constant stream into the mountain, Thorin and Alana were called away from the mountain.

This was a ruse, of course. Something they had convinced Balin to do as a favour for them - to bring the news of something urgent that required their attention, and then keep up the pretence of that being the reason for their disappearance.

Meanwhile the two merely travelled into the forest, camped for two nights and enjoyed the solitude that this time together awarded them, and then returned for the competition.

As they neared the mountain, they split up. Thorin simply marched ahead, dressed in new attire that hid his features and made him look almost nothing like the King Under the Mountain. Alana, however, went via Dale, purchasing extra bandages and a new tunic. She used the bandages to change the shape of her body, making it look more masculine, and the tunic was simply for the fact that her altered shape meant her own tunic no longer fit where it should. A hooded cloak became part of her attire, along with a stretch of fabric that she lifted up over her mouth, resting it on the bridge of her nose. Her hair was swept back, so the only thing that could be seen through the gap in the clothing was her eyes, and the skin around (which had been deliberately darkened with a layer of mud and dirt). Then she, too, headed towards the mountain, sword at her hip (though not her own, as it had a rather distinctive shape and style, much like Orcrist).

The arena for the tournament was made of wood and covered in large sheets of fabric, blue and silver in colour. It was an oval shape, with seats built into the edges, leaving a large space for competing in the centre.

Alana moved through the crowd, and though the figure she painted herself to be was neither especially broad-shouldered nor tall, the dark clothing and lack of visible skin made her appear to be rather intimidating. More than once, someone who spotted her would quickly jump out of her path, as if terrified of what she would do if she got too close.

Behind her mask, Alana could feel herself smiling, relishing in the new-found freedom she got with her sudden anonymity.

With only one arena, only one contest could take place at any one time. The archery contest went first, and Alana was unsurprised to see Kili amongst the competitors. He was one of just three dwarves competing, amongst the twenty or so men (and one woman, she noted with slight surprise).

There were twelve targets set up at varying distances - the shortest being about five metres, the longest about thirty times that, sitting as far away from the competitors as it was possible to go within the limited confines of the arena.

The first twelve competitors were all men, the dwarves, other male competitors, and the single woman all waiting for the next round. Each archer had a maximum of ten seconds to aim their arrow before they fired. From the group, only four of them even managed to hit the final target, and of those that did, none of them managed to get within the inner two rings.

Alana felt her nerves rise as Kili stepped forward to have his turn. He was in the middle of his group, sandwiched between his two fellow dwarves, while the woman was right at the back, some six spaces behind him. The first four men all did relatively well, most arrows hitting within a few inches of the centre, though once again there was little success with the final target - only one arrow hit home, and that was on the second ring in from the outside.

Kili's arrows were, she knew, made by his own hand. They were designed perfectly for him, and his bow, and his strength, and height, and shape. Many other's couldn't afford such precision when their own bows were being made, and that gave Kili an advantage. And boy, did it show.

Kili's shots were perfect every time, hitting the target dead-centre, the first few thudding home so violently that the targets were almost knocked clean off their feet. The more targets were hit perfectly, the more the crowd cheered and whooped him, and thus the wider Kili's grin became.

The wind picked up slightly as he neared the eleventh target, but he merely took a second longer to adjust his arrow, before firing... and Alana watched with a bright grin on her face as it hit home, dead centre once more. He moved to the final target and got ready, pulling the string back until it couldn't go any further. A strange hush fell over the crowd, every eye peeled and aimed at the youngest dwarf Prince. He inhaled, froze, and then released his arrow.

Alana could see it was heading straight for its target, but at the last minute another gust of wind caught the arrow, pushing it off course. It slammed into the target an inch or two too far to the left, though, in terms of height, it was exactly where it should have been. Despite the fact it wasn't a perfect shot, it was still the best one so far, for that particular target, and so the crowd went _nuts_. They cheered and whooped and hollered, and with a cheeky grin, Kili bowed to them.

Alana rolled her eyes. Ever the show-off.

Kili was the clear victor throughout the whole competition. In fact, people seemed so confident in his abilities that they barely watched as the final two competitors stepped up. One was a man, strong and lithe, and his abilities with the bow were impressive, though he had less success than Kili, three of his arrows landing slightly off-centre.

Then came the woman. Alana watched her closely, wanting to see how she would do. Women warriors amongst the race of men were few and far between, and it would be delightful to have one of them prove how good she could be. The woman took seven of her allotted ten seconds to tuck a wayward strand of her wild, red hair behind her ear, then adjusting her hold on the bow to make absolutely sure it was perfect. A few people in the crowd jeered at her. Then her head rose, she drew an arrow, pulled back the string, and fired, all in the space of about two seconds.

The arrow sunk into the target's bullseye.

The crowd fell deathly silent.

The woman ignored everything around her. With her hold on her bow now firm, she moved through the targets quickly, giving herself a mere second or two to line up her shot before releasing the arrow. Each one was perfect. When the last target came, Alana was holding her breath. This woman, unless she missed the target completely, would definitely come second. But there was a chance, as long as she fired one more perfect shot, that she could still steal away the win.

And, as much as she loved Kili, Alana almost hoped that this woman - this stranger - would do exactly that.

Once more, the woman waited, steadied herself, and then lifted her bow slowly. She inhaled, much like Kili had done. A strand of hair fell in front of her left eye. Then the arrow flew. It soared, arcing up first, and then coming back down. It slammed home... dead centre.

She had won.

At first, no one had any idea how to react. This woman's victory was unexpected to say the least. Then Kili bounded forward, ear-splitting grin on his face, and slapped her heartily on the shoulder in congratulations.

After that, the arena filled with the din of hundreds of people all roaring in celebration of the first victor of the day.

* * *

The warriors' tournament, though the most anticipated, was expected to be the most lengthy, too, and so was scheduled to be the last of the day. Alana remained a silent shadow on the edge of the crowd, watching every contest with interest. Smithing, quarter-staff, jousting, polo, the hammer-throw, wrestling... all contests which took place during the day. Alana was mildly surprised to see Dori enter himself in the wrestling contest, though she knew how strong the old dwarf was. It brought a smile to her face to see the dwarf win his contest, though there was one moment where victory seemed to slip from his grasp.

Then, only two hours or so before the sun was due to set, the warriors' tournament began. This was going to be the longest tournament by far, and there were also the greatest number of competitors in this one. Thirty-two dwarves and twenty-four men lined up for the contest, each hoping to walk away with the win. The first two rounds would be split up by race - the dwarves would battle each other, and the men would battle each other, each in groups of four. The first two to go out in each round would lose their place in the tournament.

Alana was the smallest of the competitors of men, though this didn't surprise her. Her height was tall for a woman, and about average for men, yet the warriors surrounding her all seemed to be two inches or more taller than her. Curious.

There was also the fact that she had a much narrower build than the others - they were strong and wielded broadswords or greatswords, while she and only two others wielded finer, lighter blades. The swords had all been taken away to be blunted during the course of the day, so there was little risk of a life-threatening wound during the contest.

The dwarves were split into eight groups of four, while the men were split into six groups of four. A single group for each race would go at a time - a battle between four was allowed access to half of the arena. Alana was placed in the first group, and she was against three gargantuan males, two of whom clearly believed her to be easy pickings, if the sneers and smirks they were sending her way were anything to go by. Only one of them watched her without disdain, eyeing her curiously instead.

She was calm as the first horn was blown, announcing the start of the fight. The crowd became a deafening hum of noise almost instantly, and two of Alana's opponents lunged straight for her. Calmly, without even drawing her blade, Alana sidestepped them both, forcing them into a battle with one another. She then whipped around and faced the other fighter.

He was slow and heavy, as expected, though he was frighteningly strong. She danced around him, her feet light and quick, forcing him to spin around her. When the fact that he had spun around in a circle multiple times began to hit home, he was unsteady enough on his feet for Alana to dance around him again, get behind him, and then stomp on the back of his knee. His legs buckled, and she swung her arm around, hitting him with all her strength directly in the temple.

The Ranger wasn't the strongest here, not by a long shot, but her hits were sharp and accurate.

The brute went tumbling to the ground, unconscious.

The crowd's cheers grew louder.

The other two men were still grappling with one another several feet away, and Alana eyed them both closely as she calmly walked towards them, her blade still safely stored in her sheath. When one of the men stumbled, Alana leapt forward, swinging her legs out and knocking his feet from underneath him. The brute fell with an almighty roar of anger, and was officially declared out of the competition when the other man pressed the tip of his sword against his throat.

The crowd roared in appreciation once more.

Alana turned her head towards the dwarfish battle, where only one of the four had been knocked out of the round. The remaining three were all short, even for dwarves, but more than made up for it with their bulk. They had long beards and long, dark hair, and they seemed pretty evenly matched.

"I did not think such a tiny lad would be able to last as long as you did."

Alana tilted her head to the side, turning her eyes towards the man who had not yet been knocked out of the contest. He was as strong as the others she had competed against, with blonde hair and green eyes. Said eyes were once again open and curious as he gazed at her. He was clearly waiting for a response, but she said nothing, not wanting her voice to give away the truth of who she was.

He chuckled. "Not a talker, huh? That's fine by me, so long as you can fight." Alana's eyes crinkled a little at the sides as she smiled. He grinned at her, then winced in sympathy as one of the dwarves was kicked _where the sun don't shine_ , and fell to his knees in agony. "Lets make a deal," the man spoke up again, and Alana glanced over at him once more. "Whoever lasts longest in this competition - of the two of us - has to buy the other a pint of ale at the end of the day."

Alana chuckled quietly to herself, nodded, and then held up a hand. With a grin, the man grasped her forearm firmly and shook her hand. Somehow, without either of them knowing so much as the other's name, an easy camaraderie settled between them.

* * *

The following two rounds followed in much the same way. Alana had to draw her sword - a plain, boring old thing that was nowhere near as comfortable to hold as her beloved Faradae - only once, and even then she only ended up swinging it a single time before her opponent was disarmed, his blade soaring through the air and landing a good three metres away.

After that, there were only eight dwarves left in the contest, and just six men (Alana and her peculiar new friend included). It was at this point that the dwarves and men were pulled into groups against one another. With their being fourteen of them left, they were made into two groups of seven, with four dwarves and three men in each group. Only the last remaining three from each group would make it to the fifth round.

Alana was amused to see that she and the man had been grouped together, and an unspoken agreement went between them that, for this round, they would watch each other's backs. While that wasn't a common thing for contests like this one, there was nothing in the rules that said temporary alliances couldn't be formed.

They fought well together, though it took a few minutes for them to learn the other's fighting style - there was no ease and natural flow like that which Alana shared with Thorin, Fili and Kili. And Dwalin too, to an extent.

Still, the two of them made a formidable pair, confidently matching their opponents blow for blow, and then retaliating with greater speed or strength, and overpowering them. By the end of their match (theirs having lasted longer than the other group's by a measly forty seconds), they stood with only a single dwarf. He eyed them suspiciously, accusation in his eyes as he had clearly noticed their teamwork, but he did not complain - he had, after all, also made it to the penultimate round.

After another brief break, the final six competitors created new teams, each with two dwarves against one man.

Alana glanced over her opponents, looking for any familiar features, before quickly deeming neither of them to be Thorin. One had hair that was too light, the other had a missing finger on his left hand, though his hair and beard matched those of her husband quite alarmingly.

The two dwarves were heavy-footed, wielding large battleaxes. Alana could almost have sworn they looked like brothers. When once again the start of the fight was announced, the two dwarves pounced on her. She had noticed, quite bemusedly, that people had a habit of assuming that she was the weakest player on the field, and so targeted her as an easy opponent to beat, thus making them lunge for her first.

Mirroring her move from the first round, Alana ducked out of their paths and let them clash with one another. Their grunts and growls and swearing made her smile for a moment, before she was once again dragged into the fray. Her sword spun and swished, blocked and parried, and she allowed her body to find its familiar rhythm once more. Only one would be successful in this round - Alana was determined for it to be her.

Pushing against them wasn't difficult; while they were physically far stronger than she, her speed meant that she could unleash upon them a flurry of fast-paced attacks that had them inching away from her. When they realised what she was doing - almost at the same time, which further convinced her that these two _had_ to be related somehow - they bared their teeth and leapt at her again. Alana ducked under the axe of the first dwarf, spinning around and missing the dulled blade of the second by a mere inch, before sending her elbow flying backwards. It collided with the unprotected skull of the darker haired dwarf, who let out a grunt of pain and had to blink away the spots that appeared in his vision. The other dwarf, taking advantage of this, flipped his axe around and then smacked the already dazed dwarf over the head with the wooden end.

He slumped to the ground in an unconscious heap. One down, one to go.

Focusing on her final opponent, Alana eyed him closely. He was, as she had noticed before, not a light-footed dwarf, but that meant he was firmly cemented to the ground, and it would be difficult to knock his feet out from underneath him. She noticed a soft spot in the armour above his stomach, and adjusted her grip on her sword slightly.

Guessing (not incorrectly) that he wasn't the most patient of dwarves, Alana waited for him to launch himself at her, swinging his axe wide. She ducked underneath it, rammed the hilt of her blade into his stomach, and then darted out of the way as the wind was knocked out of him and he stumbled. He tried valiantly to regain his breath, backing up from her, but she followed calmly.

One final effort on his behalf ended up with her standing behind him, blade across his throat while her hand squeezed his shoulder, stopping him from moving and accidentally hurting himself on the edge of her blade. Even though it was blunted, it could still cause harm if one wasn't careful.

The crowd cheered for her when the dwarf dropped his axe to the ground, grudgingly accepting his defeat.

He turned to her, eyed her closely, then bowed his head. "You fought well, _ **nidayith**_. Good luck in the final round."

Alana bowed her head, placing her hand over her heart, but once again said nothing. The dwarf frowned at her, then sniffed, picked up his axe, and trudged out of the arena.

Glancing over at the other side, Alana recognised that the final two in the other group were none other than Thorin and her new friend. Though she had previously wanted her friend to do well, she knew that Thorin would not be beaten in this fight, and so was unsurprised when the man was knocked down and held at the end of a blade. He conceded with good will, accepting the hand up that was offered to him by the King in disguise.

He met Alana by the edge of the arena. "Well, _gúthwine_ , it seems you owe me a drink. Congratulations on making it to the final round, though you are up against a strong fighter indeed."

Alana blinked. ' _Gúthwine_ ' was Rohirric, meaning battle-friend. It was a word usually saved for brothers-in-arms that considered themselves to be so close they were almost true brothers. To be called that... it perplexed her.

The man seemed to recognise her astonishment, and his own eyebrows rose. "You understood that?" Alana nodded slowly. He grinned. "Well, it seems you are a man of many talents. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable, but I would be pleased to have you fighting alongside me in the field of battle - you are a fierce fighter, and I respect you for it." Alana nodded in acceptance of the explanation, and then silently relayed her gratitude for the honour. He grinned crookedly at her. "Come," he said at length. "Lets get you something to eat. You should fill your stomach before your final battle." And before she could protest (non-verbally, of course), he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and began dragging her away.

She didn't think it was worth the effort to fight him on this.


	28. A Royal Battle

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait (again), but life just been a bit uuggghhhhh. Still, the cold weather and snow means that my college is closed for the day (along with every other in the county), so it gave me time to get this posted. Also, it has been pointed out to me that two of the dwarves in the last chapter looked quite a lot like Thrain and Frerin are said to have looked - honestly, this was a complete coincidence, and no, they're not coming back, I'm afraid. Anyways... hope you enjoy it :)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: SarahBloomSakura, thecowismad, electrogirl88 and Cait96.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **sesshoumarucrazy: Welp, wait no more ;)**

 **ro781727: Haha, yeah, there were a lot of loose-ends in that chapter. Hopefully some of them (actually, all of them) will be tied up in this chapter**

 **Faron Oakenshield: ;)**

 **Rohirrim Girl 2187: Yeah, it's been a little while for them. I'd love to watch a fight like that in real life, to be honest ;)**

* * *

 **'The strength of a woman can carry the weight of the world.' ~ Sarah Pezdek-Smith**

* * *

 **Chapter 28:**

It could very easily be argued that the entire populations of both Erebor and Dale had gathered in the competition arena to witness the final battle of the warriors' tournament, not to mention all the others who had come from further afield. There was a buzz of excitement as Fili returned to his station at the centre of the arena. That excitement grew and multiplied as the last two competitors walked out from the shadows, meeting one another in the centre of the arena and then bowing to Fili.

This was one of the very few tournaments where such a display was needed, but it was tradition, and thus it was done.

Fili stood up and spoke, talking to both the crowd and the warriors before him. "Through many challenges and sparring matches came victorious only two people. The two of you. You have both fought hard, and you must be congratulated for reaching this level." The crowd seemed to agree with his words, cheering eagerly and all but bouncing in their seats as they waited for the final battle to begin at last. "Before we start, might we have the honour of knowing the identities of our finalists?" He looked at them, Thorin's face covered by his war helmet, while Alana's was darkened by her hood and mask.

The two exchanged a glance, before Thorin lifted his hands and removed his helmet, his hair falling in its usual way around his shoulders. The vast majority of those living in Dale and Erebor knew of the salt-and-pepper colouring the dwarf King's hair, and thus recognised him instantly.

A shocked gasp echoed around the arena, and even Fili looked down at his uncle in astonishment.

Alana chose that moment (because she was rather fond of being dramatic, when the situation allowed it) to untie the clasp at the base of her throat, holding her cloak in place around her shoulders. She threw off the cloak completely, thus ridding her of her coverings too.

Another wave of surprise circled the arena as the crowds realised exactly who it was that they had been cheering on the whole afternoon.

There was a momentary pause that seemed to spread across every soul within half a mile, and then... a low-pitched chuckle.

"It seems you will get your second sparring match, after all," Fili commented, amused, and Alana and Thorin grinned at him.

Then they did something completely unexpected: they undid their belts, and dropped them on the ground, where Alana had left her cloak and where Thorin had left his helmet.

Then, from beneath the stands, out came Balin.

In his hands he carried two different swords belts, which bore Orcrist and Faradae, sheathed and as sharp as any good sword should be. This caused yet another stir in the crowd as the blades were revealed and unsheathed by their respective owners. They two tilted their heads to Fili once more, before they turned and headed towards the centre of the arena.

There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever, never faltering and never fading, stretching to fill every gap and empty space. The wind was all that could be heard, rustling the distant branches in the forests growing around the mountain. Alana settled loosely onto her feet, knees relaxed, and Thorin did the same.

Then the horn rang out.

The silence remained, and no one moved for a while. Thorin and Alana simply eyed each other, their eyes shining with light and joy, before they both leapt forward and met in a clash of their blades.

The final round had begun.

Alana spun away, ducking as Thorin's blade swept through the air, arcing towards the place only recently vacated by her head. She jumped back at him, Orcrist meeting Faradae with such force that Alana felt the tremors throughout her entire body. Thorin stepped back that time, swinging his sword again. Alana met it with a crash, and the two entered a flurry of attacks and parries, dodges and blocks and swipes of the blade. Meanwhile the crowd was going wild, cheering and shouting, watching with obvious glee as the King and Queen of Erebor crossed blades once more, after at least a minute of constant movement.

"Having fun?" Alana asked, grinning.

Thorin smirked in return. "Probably too much," was his reply, before they simultaneously jumped back and took a moment to readjust themselves. Alana could feel sweat beginning to form on her brow, her chest feeling constricted by the bandages tied there to hide her feminine figure. Thorin seemed to be breathing a little harder, too.

Alana waited for Thorin to move first this time, darting out of the reach of his blade and then lunging forward. Thorin knocked her sword aside and swept low, forcing Alana to jump over his blade. Then she retaliated by striking fast and furious, but he met her blow for blow, barely seeming to break a sweat. So she decided to change her tactic, spinning her sword in an elegant arc above her head, and as he raised his sword to block her attack, she used her free hand to pull her hair loose of its constraints. The long strands caught in the wind, the piece of fabric previously tying her hair back landing in a heap a few feet away. Her hair fell in gentle waves around her shoulders, reaching almost as far as the small of her back - it had grown significantly in the last year, and Alana had come to greatly value the dwarves' beliefs in the importance of one's hair, so could no longer bear to have it cut.

Her plan, however, hinged on the knowledge that Thorin had always had a special appreciation for her hair, something which had become far more obvious after their wedding. She was unsurprised, then, when his eyes darted - just for a moment - to the rich, black curls as they tumbled free of their hold. Alana leapt forward, forcing the unprepared dwarf to awkwardly arch his back and raise his sword to deflect her blow. He recovered quickly, forcing her back several paces when he used his superior strength against her.

The two met each other blade for blade several times once more, darting back and forth, to and fro, neither at any point gaining any leeway.

Their match stretched longer and longer, surpassing the length of all the other matches, and it suddenly became clear that, quite by chance, these two had never at any point faced each other yet in the competition.

By the fifteen minute mark, both were tiring, yet still had strength enough to keep fighting. They paused once more, eyed each other for a moment, and a mutual agreement swept between them. They flipped their swords in hand, and simultaneously planted the blades into the grass, conceding defeat at the same time and marking the final round as a draw.

The crowd cheered, celebrating the match even if there was no determinable winner. Alana and Thorin stepped forward and clasped each other's forearms, acknowledging each other first as warriors, and then a moment later as husband and wife, their lips meeting for only a brief time, but with a passion and intensity that probably caused a few blushes in the crowd.

Then they turned, picked up their swords, and sheathed them. Turning back to Fili, they bowed to him in respect, and he bowed in return.

Thus, the competition came to a close.

* * *

"Don't let me forget I owe someone a drink," Alana commented as she walked hand-in-hand with Thorin away from their tent, which had been hastily set up a few metres from the arena in the wake of their battle. They had disappeared in there to change back into their normal attire.

Thorin chuckled. "And what, pray tell, made you take up a bet?"

She shrugged. "One of our fellow competitors suggested it - whomever of the two of us lasted longest bought the other a drink. I believe him to be a member of the Rohirrim, one of King Fengel's éored. He seemed an honourable man, so I agreed."

"If he is indeed honourable, do you think he will still expect you to follow through with his terms now that he knows who you are?"

Alana shot him a scowl. "You insult me, Thorin. I am a woman of my word, and the fact that I am a Queen will change nothing. A deal is a deal, and I will uphold my end of it."

Thorin tilted his head to the side. "Forgive me, _**atamanel**_. I did not wish to cause offence. But he may not believe such things of you."

"And if he doesn't, then I will happily prove him wrong," she shot back.

Thorin chuckled. "Proving people wrong seems to be something of a habit of yours, I've noticed."

"It's not my fault that people underestimate me."

Grinning, Thorin nodded in agreement. "Aye, indeed. And I suppose it can be a favourable advantage for you, when the situation calls for it."

Alana smiled, placing a kiss on his head. "Truly, what advantage is _not_ favourable?"

"There are some that have better outcomes than others, is all I meant," he said, eyes soft as he looked up at her. "You must point this Rohir out to me when you see him. It is unusual for a man to set aside his pride and form allegiances with fellow competitors."

Chuckling, Alana noted, "Men are prideful creatures. Dwarves can be, too. But is it truly so hard to admit that two heads - or swords - are better than one?"

"Sometimes," the King admitted. "Especially when one was beforehand so sure that they could do something alone."

Alana tsked. "It is not a weakness to recognise when you are in need of help. We rely on others for our survival - you cannot fight off the world by yourself."

"And it is thinking like that which makes you such a great Queen," he said with a fond smile. "The Queen is the voice of reason when things like pride and stubbornness cloud the King's thoughts or their rationality."

Alana grinned to herself. "Perhaps, then, this world would be better off being run by women, hmm?"

Thorin laughed, a joyous sound. "Aye, perhaps it would. But a Queen should also have a King by her side, as she too may have her weaknesses. It is balance that must be found - something which the past has proven to be a difficult thing."

"Well," Alana mused, "we still have many years ahead of us. Perhaps we shall find it."

"Honestly?" He glanced up at her, eyes and expression impossibly tender. "I believe that we already have."

* * *

The celebration meal took place in Dale, its great hall being somehow larger than the hall in Erebor. Dwarves and men crowded into one room, though the large plaza outside meant that many also had their drinks and ate their food outside, in the pleasant (though rather chilled) weather. Thorin and Alana spent much of their time with Bard and his family, watching in amusement as many over-eager or arrogant males attempted to skirt Sigrid away for a dance or two.

She was growing up to be a staggeringly beautiful woman, with an easy air of dignity and nobility, but with the genuine care and love she held for her father's people; she seemed to be almost the perfect woman. She was tall and willowy, and though her face was still a little rounded with the last remnants of her childhood, she was clearly going to be a fine young adult.

Bain was growing up all the more, as well. By human standards, he too was almost a grown man, and it showed. He was almost as tall as Bard now, standing only an inch or so shy of Alana's own height, and there were hints of a growing beard on his face. It was strange to see him so mature, but Alana thought the new look nonetheless suited him.

And little Tilda remained the innocent young girl she had always been, albeit taller and more graceful. She too was clearly going to be a beautiful woman when she grew up, but for now she remained a child, though dearly loved and almost as sought-after as her older sister. Bard was going to be batting away suitors left, right, and centre for many years to come.

Around halfway through the celebration, Alana spotted her new friend across the hall, and moved to intercept him after leaning down to place a loving kiss on Thorin's nose, much to his and Bard's clear amusement. She picked up a tankard of ale on her way past the drinks table, and then battled her way through the dense crowd.

"I didn't actually pay for it, but I brought you that drink."

The man startled, then whirled on her in surprise. Alana was glad that he didn't bow or act in any way as if the nature of their tentative friendship had changed with the knowledge of who she was. Instead, he let out a deep-bellied laugh and accepted the drink. "I think I'll let you off the hook, _gúthwine_ ," he said, making her grin while he took a long sip of his drink. "The ale up here is very strange," he noted with a furrow in his brow. "Tastes much more bitter."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Don't know yet, my Lady. Guess I'll have to drink more to find out." And he did just that, pouring at least a quarter of his drink down his throat in just a couple of gulps.

Alana chuckled. "That is certainly one way of doing it." She tilted her head to the side. "Might I have your name? It seems a belated request, but better late than never."

He grinned, bowing his head and spreading his arms wide. "Cenric, son of Celmund, my Lady."

Alana grinned. "Alana, daughter of Arathorn, at your service, Master Cenric."

Cenric scoffed. "As if I didn't know who you were. That was a brave move you pulled there; you and your husband both."

"We recognised that it would be an unfair fight if people knew who we were." Alana glanced back over at Thorin, who was currently laughing quietly with Bard. She smiled, then turned back to Cenric, only to find that he was eyeing her curiously. "We were not fond of the idea of having an advantage that meant others were disadvantaged significantly. Yet we both wanted to fight. This was our solution to the problem."

Cenric grinned, taking another sip of his ale. "The Warrior Queen indeed," he said with a grin. " _Cwenhild_ , in the Rohirric tongue; Queen of Battle. That is how you shall be remembered from now on." He bowed his head again, winking when Alana flushed slightly at the reverence in his tone.

"Really, that isn't necessary..."

"Perhaps you do not believe it so," he mused, swirling his drink in his tankard, "but I am not the first to say so. I have heard your dwarves' whispers - they call you _**mel-hekh-inh-u'zagh**_." Alana snickered quietly to herself as he attempted to sound out the unfamiliar word. Cenric grinned at her amusement, then continued, "Queen-Warrior, I was told it means, by one particularly cheerful fellow. They love you, Queen Alana. Now they respect you even more. Warriors amongst all races are greatly revered, but most do not think women are meant for battle. Yet your dwarves take great pride in their new Queen, who can fight as well as any male."

"And what are your thoughts on warrior women, Master Cenric?"

He tilted his head to the side. "There were shieldmaidens in Rohan once, who fought alongside their men. Now it is more an honourary title to hold, as few maidens ever see battle. I used to think that it was the duty of men to protect our womenfolk. Yet you have swayed me. The right blade can cause a woman to be just as much a threat as a man. I can see now that women should not fight like men do, but with more speed than strength. You, my Lady, have proved that such a fighting style can work to great effect."

"I am glad to hear it," Alana said with a laugh. "This world's battles should not be fought by men alone. A woman has just as much right to fight for her home as a man does."

Cenric hummed thoughtfully. "True enough, though I find it strange that I have never before looked at it in that way." He grinned again, one side of his lips raising higher than the other, and he raised his tankard. "A toast to you, Queen Alana. And to all warrior women."

Alana laughed lightly as he tipped his head back and downed the rest of his drink in one go.

* * *

The rest of the night went by in a flash, the sounds of merry laughter and revelry filling the air and making the entire hall feel warm and almost homely, despite its enormity and the sheer number of people packed into such a tight space.

Bard, Thorin and Alana had stepped forward halfway through the night to give the victor of each competition their rewards, each being a generous bag of golden coins.

When the woman who'd beaten Kili in the archery contest stepped forward, being the last of the all the victorious contestants to do so, Alana silently met Thorin's eyes, and with a smile he handed the bag of gold to her. Alana then stepped off the dais and descended the stairs to meet the woman, rather than the other way around.

Keeping hold of the bag for a moment, Alana considered the stranger stood before her. "What is your name?" she asked at length.

"Rimilde, your Majesty," the woman said with a bow, a lock of her red hair falling from its tentative hold. It was pinned back by a jewel made of gleaming emeralds, and seemed to be the only thing of significant worth on Rimilde's person.

"You are a fine shooter, Rimilde. If I may ask, where did you learn?"

Rimilde blinked, as if surprised by Alana's interest. She hesitated a moment, eyeing Alana closely, but the Ranger had always had a rather disarming smile, even so small, and the stranger quickly gave in. "Tharbad, my Lady."

Alana froze for a second, before understanding washed over her. Tharbad was a ruin that lay west of the Misty Mountains, and lay on the ancient border between Cardolan and Enedwaith. It was once a great city, something for the race of men to be proud of, but since its abandonment it had become instead a safe place for unlawful men and women. Rimilde didn't seem unsavoury - quite the opposite - but honest people could come from dishonest backgrounds. Alana dearly hoped that Rimilde would take her reward and use it to start a better life for herself - one away from trickery and deceit.

Giving her head a small shake, Alana smiled again and passed the sack of gold into Rimilde's calloused hands. "I hope your good fortune continues, Rimilde."

Rimilde smiled hesitantly back, bowed her head, and then turned to walk away. Alana watched her with curiosity, before she too spun on her heel, heading back to the company of her husband and good friend.

"I did not expect to have such a strange woman win a contest against your nephew," Bard noted idly, stroking his chin as a thoughtfulness came over him. "She carries herself in a peculiar manner - confident, yet equally shy. Like she is trying to hide under a mask, but the truth of her feelings are bleeding through the faultlines."

"Rimilde is still young," Alana replied calmly. "She has her whole life ahead of her, and so much uncertainty. She is right to not let her confidence - forced or otherwise - turn to arrogance. It will only get her into trouble."

"Her decisions in life are her own," Thorin said blandly. "As are her mistakes. She must get things wrong in order to learn how to do them right."

Alana hummed in agreement, whilst Bard nodded. "You're not wrong," the Queen murmured, glancing back over shoulder at the spot the curious redhead had just recently vacated. "Still, I think she has great potential to make a good life for herself, so long as she takes the right opportunities as and when they are presented to her."

Thorin smiled knowingly. "You like her?"

Alana grinned, feeling a sheepish blush spreading across her cheeks. "I do," she admitted. "I do not know why especially, but I have a feeling we could have been good friends had she deigned to stay a little longer. Alas, it is something that will not happen. I was able to wish her good fortune, and that is enough for me."

Bard smiled. "You are a good woman, Lady Alana," he stated bluntly, and Alana jerked in surprise, her eyes widening. "This world would be a much kinder place if there were more of your character living within it."

"Yeah, but if everyone was the same, things would become mind-boggling dull very quickly," she said with a grin.

In the corner of her eye, she watched Thorin roll his eyes. "Why can you never simply accept the compliments given to you, _**atamanel**_?"

Alana sighed. "Sorry, Bard," she murmured. "I didn't mean to throw your words aside, I just..."

"Are painfully modest," came the amused reply. "I am not offended - that is simply who you are. But Thorin is right; you should not be so quick to dismiss other's kind words about you. You deserve them."

Alana nodded slowly. "I... will try."

"One day," Thorin said, sounding almost pained, "you will begin to see yourself as we do. Perhaps, when that day comes, you will not be so fast to downplay your efforts, or be so dismissive of your importance."

"But I'm not important!" Alana protested.

"You are," insisted the dwarven King. "You are the Queen of Erebor now. You are important to every soul living within the mountain's depths, and you are important to your family - vast and complicated though it is. And, more than anything else, you are important to me."

Struck speechless, Alana just stared at her husband for a long while - long enough for Bard to feel like he was intruding, and quietly make his exit. At length, her expression and her stance softened. "Thank you," she murmured, and Thorin had to strain his ears to catch her meek voice. "You are very important to me, too."

He nodded. "So long as you are aware that it is - and always will be - a mutual feeling..."

She smiled softly. "I am," she promised. "But you should know..." Thorin's eyebrows rose, wondering where she was going with this. "The more often you say things like that, the deeper I fall in love with you."

He quirked his lips. "Is that such a bad thing?"

"Perhaps not on the surface," she said, smiling wider now. "But, if you continue like this, you will never be able to get rid of me."

Thorin laughed warmly, reaching out and taking her hands, then pulling her close. "I think you will find, my Lady, that that is a most agreeable arrangement."


	29. Something New

**A/N: Oh my God, I am SO sorry! I literally have no excuse here, I just COMPLETELY lost track of time. I can't believe it's been ten days since I last updated...! Sorry about the wait, but, hopefully you won't hate me too much after reading the chapter... ;)**

 **Big thanks to edwardilovebella and dipps for following/favouriting :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Faron Oakenshield: I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it :)**

 **sesshoumarucrazy: Aww, thanks, and I'm glad you enjoyed it! As for where it goes next... well.. ;)**

 **Sparky She-Demon: Sparring matches are hard to write, but at the same time SO much fun :P Glad you enjoyed it :)**

 **ro781727: Rimilde I haven't decided about yet, but I'm planning to have Alana and Cenric meet for a second time. We'll have to see where it goes, I guess. :)**

 **Guest: Thorin and Alana's time together is severely limited, since they have to focus so much on running the kingdom. They have gotten into a few small arguments so far, but no big fights. There's a new story arc on the way though, that could change things... ;)**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Haha, thanks, glad to hear it :D And you might do, or you might not... You'll have to wait and see... ;P**

* * *

 **'Too many people miss the silver lining because they're expecting gold.' ~ Arthur Yorinks**

* * *

 **Chapter 29:**

Winter hit suddenly and did not go easy on the mountain city. The first snowfall came at the end of November, and turned quickly into a howling blizzard that did not let up for nearly a week. The great doors leading into the mountain were closed to stop the cold from coming into the dwarven kingdom as much as possible, but it was impossible to block it out completely. The royal seamstresses were working five days a week to sow together as many thick coats and blankets as possible, which were then distributed amongst the less fortunate of the citizens, who could not risk spending even a little gold on coats for themselves.

The cooks, too, were worked harder. Every other day, at lunch, the celebration hall was filled with freshly cooked food, available for anyone who wished it. Most who came were the same as those who received the coats - the nobility had enough money to pay for their own food, and they would turn their noses up at the thought of sharing a dinner table with the 'common rabble' of the mountain.

The particular dwarf Lord who said that spent the next ten minutes forced into a wide-eyed silence, listening to Alana chastise him at great length for his rudeness. Still, he was never seen in the hall with the others.

The great forges were always lit and burning as hot as they could, and special chambers were opened up so a large amount of their heat would filter up into the city above. Torches were more numerous along the corridors and bridges, not due to a lack of light, but for the additional warmth they provided.

They struggled through the winter, but they managed well under their rulers.

Alana grew to be particularly loved by the miners and servants (some of the more low-paid workers in the mountain), because she didn't overlook them. In fact, she cared more for them than the nobles who she surrounded herself with on a semi-daily basis. They were in charge of mining the gold and jewels that made Erebor so famous, and they were in charge of the upkeep of the royal quarters, keeping everything neat and tidy so that she and Thorin didn't have to worry about the small things. She believed them to be deserving of far more than they earned, and believed quite heartily that they, rather than the nobles, were the backbone of Erebor.

Without them, she was sure that the greatest dwarven kingdom in Middle Earth would simply fall apart.

The servants loved that she treated them with respect, that she thanked them and appreciated their efforts, and that she would be generous in giving them time off to see their families or do some of the things that they enjoyed. They loved that she was so modest - she still occasionally shuffled from foot to foot when she was addressed as 'my Queen' - and they loved that she never pretended they weren't there. She even made an effort to talk to them, to learn names and ask about them and their interests, and care enough to remember all that she was told. They were also convinced that it was because of her that their salary went up. It wasn't by much, but it made a difference.

The miners, on the other hand, loved that she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. Most of the time, when she visited the mines, she would be dressed in her Ranger garb instead of the fancy dresses she had to wear most of the time. They too loved that she treated them with respect, that she laughed and joked with them, that she treated them like equals. They loved her consistency - she would, every Friday afternoon, go down to the mines and see them. Often there was no real need for her to go, but she did it anyway. She was such a frequent visitor that Thorin handed all responsibility for the mines and miners over to her. Something she was only too happy to accept, and the miners were happy with the new arrangement as well. Many even came to know her so well that they would call her by her first name, more and more doing so when she didn't complain or protest, and even seemed relieved when one chose to look close enough.

Alana would also sometimes go to the city orphanage. The number of orphaned dwarves was mercifully low, but the six dwarflings without parents still tugged at her heartstrings. They were just so cute! She would visit every two weeks or so, and sit with them for hours on end reading them books, or telling them of her own adventures, and often teaching them to read and write, and to count. They too grew to adore her, and none of them cared about her status - they were more excited about having a new, friendly face to play with from time to time.

In short, while Thorin was forced to deal with the stuck-up nobles almost every hour of every day, Alana would split her time in half - she would spend half of it at her husband's side, supporting him and aiding him on the rare occasions when he was unable to sway the councilmen to his side; and she would spend the other half amongst her people, taking interest in their lives and slowly winning over the hearts of every dwarf she encountered.

In short, Alana grew to be a Queen loved dearly by the entire kingdom, nobles and commonfolk alike.

Such a life did not go without its drawbacks, though.

Alana greeted every day with enthusiasm and energy, but by the time she returned to bed she would be exhausted. Half the time she was so busy with her duties that she either forgot to eat, or had to be chased down by one of the chefs and have a plate shoved into her hands. There had been several times where she had stumbled upon standing, getting white spots in her eyes as the blood rushed suddenly from her head. And then there were those times where her exhaustion was just too much... She'd woken up on two occasions to find she had collapsed, and was looking up at the crowd surrounding her and seeming near-frantic with their concern.

It was understandable, then, that Thorin was growing more and more concerned for Alana's health. For the entire time he had known her, she had been strong and soldiered on, no matter what it was that ailed her. With these bouts of exhaustion, her general weakness, and not to mention the fact she had fainted twice in the last week... Unfortunately, he had every reason to be worried.

The worst was this morning. He had been rudely roused from his sleep when Alana bolted from the bed, heading straight for the bathroom and then throwing up violently into the wash basin. Thorin had rushed after her, pulling her hair out of the way and gently rubbing her back, easing her through the reappearance of last night's dinner. That had been the last straw for him, so with a face that brokered no arguments, he had ordered her to go and see Oin to determine what was wrong with her.

Erebor now had around a dozen dwarfish healers working in the healing house, but, for the company, the only healer they could ever see was Oin. The old dwarf was touched by their loyalty and faith in him, and never failed to bring out the best results. Thorin had even made him the official royal healer - the only one allowed to help the royal line, except under extreme or unavoidable circumstances.

Oin had recently set a strict rule that only he and his patients were allowed in the healing house while they were being examined. Wounds and injuries weren't uncommon, particularly with Fili and Kili, who were often a little too careless when sparring together. Oin always insisted on as much free space as possible when looking them over. Because of this, Thorin was forced to wait outside while Alana was checked over.

He lifted his head at the sound of footsteps, blinking when he saw the whole company heading towards him, with the addition of his sister walking alongside Fili and Kili.

"Bifur saw you and Alana heading for the healing house," Fili explained, seeing Thorin's perplexed expression. "He gathered us all here to see you." He glanced at the door. "Has she not come out yet?"

Thorin exhaled and shook his head. "No, she has not. I just hope it is not something serious." Dís chuckled, seemingly at ease with the whole situation. Thorin narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you have something you wish to share, sister?"

She grinned at him. "Oh, no, this is not my news to share."

Blinking, Thorin frowned. "You know what ails her?"

"I have my suspicions. Honestly, I'm surprised none of the rest of you recognise the signs."

There was a beat of silence as everyone pondered her words. It was broken by a sharp breath, and Thorin's head snapped up in time to see Gloin's eyes widen. "By Mahal," the dwarf breathed. He turned to Dís. "Do you really think...?"

Dís shrugged. "Well, it makes sense."

"I'm confused," Kili grumbled.

Fili huffed. "You're not the only one."

"Oh!" Bombur slapped his hand over his mouth at his exclamation, and then a look of utter delight spread across his face.

Thorin's brows furrowed further. He mentally ran through all the information he had available to him, trying to figure it out. Alana was showing signs of severe fatigue, unsteadiness, and now was throwing up as well. Yet Dís was calm, Gloin was surprised but not worried, and Bombur was practically glowing with joy. What could-?

"No..." he breathed, the revelation smacking him in the face. Everyone turned to face him, taking note of his stunned expression, his wide eyes. Thorin met his sister's gaze, noting the glee that glimmered behind the familiar brown irises. Thorin tried to stamp down the hope that reared its head in his chest, just in case it wasn't what he thought. "Dís... am I wrong? Is she...?"

Dís smiled gently. "I think she is."

"She's what?" Kili asked, still lost. But now realisation was dawning on some of the others, who let out their own exclamations of happiness and shock.

Then even Fili figured it out. His mouth dropped and his eyes widened, before he whirled on Thorin and beamed from ear to ear. Thorin met his grin with one of his own, and Fili let out a whoop and pulled his naive little brother into a joyous embrace.

"Still not getting it," Kili grunted, pushing his brother back. "Fili, Thorin... what's going on?"

"If I'm right..." Fili grinned again, his glee infectious as everyone who understood mirrored his expression. "If I'm right, then it won't be long before we have our first cousin."

Kili blinked. Blinked again. Then his eyes popped out from his skull. "Alana's pregnant?" he asked hopefully, turning to Thorin, who shrugged.

"I guess we'll find out," he muttered, still trying to fully digest the news. He found it to be an odd thought that he - after all his years in this land, after everything he'd seen and done - could still father a child. Both Fili and Kili were now into adulthood, and yet he could still remember a time when they could barely walk on their own two feet. It was odd to realise so much time had passed since he had last helped to raise a child, and yet he couldn't push down the warmth that rose in his chest at the thought. He adored his nephews, loved them like they were his own, but if Alana was pregnant... This child would be _theirs_. It would be half him and half her, and somehow that made it infinitely more precious to him. He couldn't bear to think that, now he had linked Alana's symptoms to a reason, he might have made a mistake. He couldn't bear to imagine having his hopes crushed so brutally.

So when Oin stepped out of the healing houses with a grim face, Thorin was thoroughly unprepared for the way his heart splintered just a little. He stepped forward, a questioning gleam to his eyes, and Oin understood what he was asking without a word being spoken.

The old healer tilted his head back towards the door. "I think you should speak to her, Thorin. She needs you right now."

Thorin's stomach dropped through the floor. There was a moment of utter stillness and silence as everyone became painfully aware that perhaps they were wrong. That they had gotten their hopes up, only to have them shattered by the truth. Glancing over at his suddenly very pale sister, whose eyes were wide with pain and horror, Thorin swallowed thickly and then walked into the healing house.

Alana was alone in there, sat on the edge of the cot with her head down, her hair loose around her shoulders and hiding her face. Upon closer inspection, Thorin realised with a thrill of worry that her hands were gripping the edge of the cot tight enough to draw the blood away from her knuckles. He found himself endlessly grateful that there was no one else in the room, knowing this was something they would both hate talking about with other people there - whatever it was they had to talk about, anyway.

Thorin stopped in front of her, frowning deeper when she didn't even seem to register his arrival; not reacting even when he lifted his hands to gently tilt her head up to meet his gaze. Her eyes were wide but empty; blank in a way that he knew could only mean she hadn't yet returned from her own mind. The expression on her face was unreadable - it displayed so many varying emotions that Thorin failed to pinpoint even one of them. Whatever was happening, it had put Alana in a state of deep shock.

With a long exhale, Thorin adjusted their positions so her forehead could rest on his. He watched her as she continued to think, running his fingers through her hair, carefully smoothing out the knots that were there. He didn't know how long they remained that way - it could have been a minute, or an hour, or a day - but eventually Alana's eyes cleared, and she became aware of his presence. Blinking, those beautiful blue irises met his with a hesitancy that surprised him.

His hand moved to cup her cheek, and he let a tiny smile creep over his face when she instantly turned her face into his palm. "What is it, Alana?" he asked quietly, not bothering to hide his concern when her eyes skipped back to his. "What ails you?"

Alana sighed, averting her gaze. "I'm okay," she whispered. "I'm exhausted, but I'm healthy. I'm just... scared."

"Of what?"

She looked up again, biting her bottom lip. "Don't you know?"

Thorin shook his head. "Oin didn't say."

Alana exhaled slowly, steeling herself, before she revealed that they had been right, all along. "I'm with child, Thorin."

He didn't know how to react. That hope and joy flared in his chest again, burning like a flame that refused to die down, but there was something about this that also caused fear to grow in his breast. Such news should have been joyous - it should have caused a new light to flare in her, too. Why, then, was she so scared? Did she not wish to have his child?

"What are you not telling me?" he inquired at length, his scrutinising gaze catching Alana's infinitesimal wince.

"I could... I might..." She sighed, closing her eyes again. "I might not be able to carry the child to full term," she said at last. Thorin's frown deepened, but he was silent, allowing her to continue. "Oin said that... that many dwarrowdams struggle to birth a child - that the labour process puts an awful lot of strain on their bodies. They often cannot cope. But I am not a dwarrowdam, and thus my body is more fragile. It is also carrying a child whose father is not of the race of men, so... There's a good chance that we will lose the baby. And even if I make it to giving birth, the strain of it has... a very high chance of killing one or both of us." Alana finally met his eyes, her own wet with tears, while Thorin's face had grown ashen. His eyes, though, were warm, loving, confident, and he looked upon her with such faith that her tears overwhelmed her, flowing freely down her cheeks.

Thorin stepped closer to her, settling himself between her legs and then pulling her into his arms. Alana returned the embrace tightly, momentarily forcing the air from his lungs, before he got used to the pressure and instead allowed her to bury her face in his hair. "There have been many things," he began slowly, "that have had a high chance of taking you away from me. You have survived them all, and come back even stronger." He pushed her back tenderly, brushing away her tears with his thumbs. "I have faith that this time will be no different."

"I'm scared," she admittedly weakly. "So scared. So much could go wrong, and-"

Thorin cut her off by pressing his finger to her lips. Alana's wide eyes fell on his again, pleading for him to find a way to ease her worries. He gave it the best that he had. "Do not doubt the strength you have in you. Nor the strength of our child, even so young." He pressed his free hand to the flatness of her stomach, feeling a foreign firmness that only highlighted the truth of the situation. "You possess the blood of Kings, so strong that they have lived nearly a thousand years beyond the belief of the rest of the world. Now, so does our child. And in its veins also flows the blood of my line; descendants of Durin the Deathless himself. Through all that has been thrown into the paths of both our families, they have endured. Now they are forever entwined, in the life of the one who lies beneath your heart." Thorin smiled warmly at her, noting that Alana was beginning to gain hope and happiness with his words. "Our child will be the strongest and hardiest of us all. And we will both keep him safe, even if and when he no longer needs us to."

Alana let a sliver of a smile creep onto her face. "He?"

Thorin's face became sheepish, though he did not deny his words. "A feeling," he answered at last. "Though I would be thrilled to have a little girl as well, I think that, this time, we are having a son."

Alana released a breathy laugh, most of her previous fear having disappeared. "'This time'?" she echoed. "Don't tell me you are planning for a second child already."

Thorin chuckled. "You think I haven't thought about it?" he challenged, cocking an eyebrow. "I know that _you_ have. Your various conversations with my sister are not as secret as you might think."

Alana pouted. "Well now, that's just not fair. I don't know what things you talk about with her."

"Do you ask?"

"Do you?"

"Of course - how else would I have found out that you wish to have three children to carry on our lines?"

Alana looked utterly mortified, while Thorin's face was inexplicably smug. "Oh, I am definitely going to kill her." Alana jumped off the cot, moving towards the door, when Thorin caught hold of her hand.

He drew her closer again, encompassing her hand in his completely. "Are you alright now?" he asked.

Her face softened, and she nodded. "I am. Thanks to you."

Thorin nodded. "Good. Do not be embarrassed or afraid to come to me with your concerns; know that I will always have time to listen to you. This, I promise."

"Likewise," she murmured, pressing her lips to his, before pulling back suddenly. "How many people are waiting outside?"

Thorin chuckled. "The whole company, and my sister, of course. Perhaps there may be more now, who appeared after I came inside. I don't know."

"Maybe they gave up and left," Alana muttered, sounding almost hopeful.

Thorin, however, just snorted. "If you believe that, then you have not learnt much of the stubbornness of dwarves."

"Hey, don't squash my hopes and dreams, sunshine." She grinned at him when he cocked an eyebrow at her peculiar choice of nickname, but otherwise neither reacted. Instead, they headed for the door, Alana pausing with her hand hovering above the latch. "I'm a little nervous," she admitted slowly.

Thorin smiled comfortingly and placed a hand on the small of her back. "They all suspect already," he told her. "You'll just be confirming what they believe."

"But do we tell them about the dangers?"

Thorin hesitated. "No," he decided at last. "Not straight away. There's no need to ruin the moment."

Alana chuckled. "Why do I get the feeling some of them might actually be happier about this than we are?"

Smiling in return, Thorin shook his head. "I think, in my case at least, that's not possible."

Alana's eyes softened, and she turned away from the door to place a soft kiss on his lips. "Me too," she whispered, then added, "though I reckon one or two of them might get close."

He considered for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose you are right," he said at last. He offered her his elbow, his soft smile back in place. "Shall we?"

Without a word, Alana slid her arm into his, and the two of them left the healing house. The company were waiting with eager and anxious expressions.

Thorin exhaled for a moment, mentally preparing himself from the chaos that was about to unfold, before announcing, "We were right. Alana's pregnant."


	30. Discoveries

**A/N: Bit of a cute Fili/Alana family moment in this one. I apologise for the wait, but hopefully it'll be worth it :)**

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* * *

 **'There are no secrets that time does not reveal.' ~ Jean Racine**

* * *

 **Chapter 30:**

News of Alana's pregnancy travelled through the kingdom like wildfire. Though no one from the company had actually told anyone, somehow everyone still learned. Perhaps someone had overheard and spoke of it. Or maybe someone had put together the clues of the last few weeks and come to the same conclusion that the company had reached. Either way, Alana could no longer go anywhere without being congratulated.

The councillors seemed thrilled by the news, enough so that Alana began to wonder if they, in a weird way, thought the future heir to the throne was somehow _their_ child. Thorin had confided in her that he thought they were trying to cosy up to the King and Queen, either so that they'd be given right of care in case Thorin and Alana died, or so that any of their own children could be considered potential partners of the new heir. Either case made Alana grimace. She didn't dislike _all_ of the councilmen, but she certainly didn't want any of them to have such power of the life of her child.

Of course, there were always going to be a few downsides to her current state.

Thorin had insisted that she be accompanied whenever she wandered anywhere beyond the royal quarters, something that - much to her dismay - was agreed by everyone else. Not wanting to be followed by a guard who would just stand as still as a statue and offer no conversation, they reached a compromise.

Makaylen was later formally employed as Alana's personal guard, much to her delight.

The dwarrowdam was growing more competent with her choice of weapon every day, still meeting with Dwalin for two hours of practice at the first sight of the sun in the morning. After that, she would wander over to the royal quarters and meet Alana, who, despite still being a little sour at needing a constant shadow, enjoyed having the young dam for company.

Makaylen's presence meant the dam was allowed to attend council meetings and other important meetings with nobles, and it was during one particular council that they learned she was actually quite the talented strategist.

Lord Avar leaned forward in his chair, his chin on his hands. "I don't understand," he said at length. "What interest would they have in the town on the lake?"

"Laketown has been growing more and more prosperous since Erebor was reclaimed," Thorin explained patiently. "But their town still bears a few wounds from the attack from Smaug last winter, and it is an ill-defended place. They have no way of fighting back."

"Bandits," Lord Jasp spat. "Will we never be rid of the scum of this land?"

Thorin cocked an eyebrow. "Of course not. It is part of people's nature to take opportunities where they find them. But they will all do so in different ways, and some just choose to turn to illegal means instead of more honourable ones." He sighed. "The new Master of Esgaroth is becoming desperate - the number of attacks is growing fast. Just last week, he said there were three raids, whereas before they were only so often as once or twice a month."

"What are they after?" Alana asked, frowning. "Just money? Things of value?"

"It seems that way," came the reply, though Thorin was frowning. "But they are more dangerous than ordinary thieves - most often they do not simply steal an item, but instead kill the person wearing it and then take it from their body. The only pattern that can be found is that those who are targeted are often of the higher classes, and wear their jewels more openly."

"How are they getting there?" asked Lord Venrik. "There is only one route into and out of the city, and the bridge should be guarded at all hours."

"Perhaps the bandits are members of the town," Lord Thuril suggested. "The guards would never imagine that they were being robbed by their own."

But Thorin shook his head at the suggestion. "It is not likely. Multiple witnesses have claimed to see the bandits fleeing towards the western half of the town - the bridge lies on the eastern bank of the lake."

"All the more reason to suggest an inside job!" the Lord persisted. "Perhaps they were fleeing to a building within the town that acts as they hideout."

But Thorin was still frowning. "Esgaroth is a small town, Lord Thuril. If that were the case, it is unlikely their successes would have been this plentiful - someone would have caught them by now. It is how we know for certain they are not finding their way in by boat - the docks are on the northern part of the town, and thus any boats on the western part of the town would be spotted instantly. There have been no reports of any boats that don't belong, or that arrive at unscheduled times."

"Then how are they getting in and out?"

There was a moment of silence as everyone thought, before a new voice spoke up cautiously.

"Are the bath houses in the west of the town?"

Alana blinked, turning to face Makaylen, who had a hint of a flush on her cheeks but was keeping her head high and her jaw tight. She thought back to her time there, and eventually replied, "Yes, I believe so. But why?"

Makaylen hesitated a moment, but the reassuring look that Alana was sending her was enough for her to swallow back her nerves to explain her thoughts. "During the tournament, I started talking to a woman who lives in Esgaroth still. She said that the bath houses aren't being supplied by the lake water anymore, because there's still a dragon corpse at the bottom of the lake. They think Smaug's body is... polluting the lake, and that they'd be washing themselves with toxic water. So they've put in a new system that takes water directly from the river, runs underneath the lake, and then gets pumped up into the bath houses."

"If they can access that route..." Thorin nodded thoughtfully, a smile twitching at his lips. "Thank you, Lady Makaylen, for bringing this to our attention."

"How can we know that she's right?" piped up Lord Venrik, eyeing Makaylen like she was something particularly nasty that had ended up on the sole of his boot.

Thorin cocked an eyebrow. "What reason would she have to lie?"

Venrik narrowed his eyes at the slightly condescending tone that dripped into Thorin's words. Still, he answered as if he hadn't heard a thing. "An attempt to raise her station, perhaps?"

Alana frowned, but before she could say anything, there was a loud scoff from behind her. Her eyebrows rose as she looked back at Makaylen, who was in the process of rolling her eyes. "I have little patience for the habits of nobles, my Lord," she said with a bite in her voice. "I am the guard of the Queen, and have no desire to change that. But while I am here, if I can offer some information that may be of help, I will do so."

"And it is appreciated," Thorin cut in before Venrik could retort. "It may bring us closer to solving this."

"Would you care to remind me _why_ we are focusing so much on the issues of the men of the lake?" Lord Suthin piped up, a deep crease between his brows.

"Because they are our allies," Alana said coldly, "and because if this is not controlled at an early stage it could spread, first to Dale and then to us."

Suthin scoffed. "Impossible. This mountain is impregnable."

" _Nothing_ is impregnable," Thorin cut in, frowning. "Alana is right, Lord Suthin. That we are allies with these men should be enough for any of us, but if you need further convincing then you should realise that these bandits _will_ become more bold as their successes continue. The men of Esgaroth have already faced that." He shook his head. "For now, we have a good idea of the route they are taking to get in and out of the town. I will relay this to King Bard and the Master of Laketown, and hopefully we will be able to stop these attacks before the escalate. Too many lives have been lost already."

* * *

"How can you stand those people?" Makaylen asked her as they walked back to the royal quarter. "They're just so... obnoxious, and arrogant." She huffed. "I can't believe the people are putting their safety in the hands of those selfish-"

"Enough, Kayla," Alana cut in, laughing softly. "Not all of the Lords are that bad - if you remember, only one or two of them caused any issues. And their job is to advise the King. They cannot force his hand, and so all decisions are his to make. Thorin is a reasonable man, and certainly far more concerned for the well-being of his people than some of the other Lords."

"I just think that there should be a greater variety of people on the council," Makaylen continued, frowning. "The nobles will only ever hear the side of the story that they want to. If there were others there..."

"I agree," came the simple response. "And believe me, I've been trying to convince Thorin to do exactly that for weeks now. But centuries of tradition cannot be undone so quickly. Not without revolt. In order to bring in more people, we'd have to remove some of the existing members."

"Well, there's already an open spot, isn't there?" Makaylen reminded her, looking hopeful now. "Perhaps if you bring in a miner, or a jeweller, or one of workers of the city to fill Boitu's space, you might convince King Thorin to take it further."

With a bemused expression on her face, Alana looked down at her friend. "Are you always this full of ideas, or is this just a particularly good day for you?"

Makaylen grinned sheepishly. "No, I've been thinking about this for a long time. I never thought... Well, I never believed that my ideas would truly make a difference. Even after I met you, I couldn't possibly imagine that I would become this _close_ to you. It's still surreal to me. I can't... I can't get used to it."

Alana chuckled. "You and me both," she murmured. "We can't change who we are, and I know that, at heart, I am still a Ranger. I always will be. Being Queen is a challenge I'm willing to take up to be with Thorin, but... I'm still not used to it."

Makaylen grinned. "Well, if it helps, you're doing a brilliant job."

Alana flushed. "You think so?"

"I know so," replied Makaylen, such confidence in her voice that Alana couldn't summon up the will to be doubtful of her words. "The people love you. You look out for them, think of them, and you make a point to spend time with them. I can't remember a time when a Queen has ever done that before."

"And... exactly how many Queens have you lived under?" Alana asked, knowing the answer was just one - her.

Makaylen rolled her eyes. "You think people don't write things down? My father taught me to read when I was young, and history has always been an interest of mine. I've read about the previous Kings and Queens of Durin's Folk, and _none_ of them have been so concerned with the lives of the commonfolk."

Alana stared at her, then frowned. "Well, that's just stupid."

Laughing, Makaylen nodded. "I agree. It's just the nobles that don't. Most of the Queens of the past have risen only from noble houses. Your link to the royalty of men helped you to become Queen, but you've lived a hard life. One without excess and privilege. That makes you more aware of the people beneath you."

Alana huffed. "They're not beneath me," she countered, shaking her head. "The worth of a person should be measured by their deeds and their actions, not by the station they were born into. Respect should be _earned_ , not just... given away."

Makaylen smiled. "And it's thinking like that which makes you so easy for the people to love." She placed her hand on Alana's arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I, for one, am honoured to have you as my Queen."

Alana smiled, placing her hand over Makaylen's. "Believe me," she said, "the honour is mine, Kayla."

* * *

Thorin and Alana did their best to keep the dangers of her pregnancy hidden from the rest, but when he was insisting she go and see Oin every week, that became difficult. With everyone watching her more closely, being more focused on her health, sneaking away to visit the old healer was near impossible.

A month later, during which time work had begun within the royal quarter to extend the royal suite to accommodate their impending arrival, Alana was caught by Fili heading down to the healing hall.

The young Prince frowned as he watched her enter the room, wondering what it was that could send her in there. There was no one locked in the healing house that she knew, so she was unlikely to be visiting... which meant she had to be going in there for herself. He knew that she could easily going there to have a quick check-up, based on her condition, but he found that rather worrying. Most women didn't need more frequent checks until they were halfway through their pregnancy (dwarven pregnancies lasted around twelve months). Alana had to be at least four months away from there - she wasn't even showing yet!

With that in mind, and feeling a deep concern for her health, Fili followed her. He paused by the door, contemplating going in, before Alana spoke, and he decided instead to wait outside and eavesdrop.

"Good afternoon, Master Oin."

"Back again, I see," Oin mused, his voice somewhere between amused and worried. "At this rate, everyone will-"

"I know, Oin," Alana cut in, sighing. "But it is better this way - Thorin and I have both agreed."

The old healer sighed, clearly in disagreement with their choice, but not wanting to go against it. Fili felt himself frowning. They were keeping something from the rest of the company? What could it be that they didn't trust them to know?

He didn't hear much after that, catching only the odd mumbled word from the half-deaf healer, something which made him realise Alana was, indeed, being examined for some reason or another.

He waited for a long time, wondering and becoming more fearful as the time passed, his mind producing more dangerous and terrible visions of what could be wrong with her. Most of them, understandably, circled back to her pregnancy.

"Well," he heard Oin begin, straightening up and turning his ear closer to the door. "Everything seems to be normal."

"Really?" Alana asked hopefully. "There's nothing wrong?"

"No, lass, you're as healthy as ever," the dwarf confirmed. "But it was unlikely that any issues were to arrive this early - more often than not, problems occur in the latter half of the pregnancy, once the babe is a little bigger and putting more pressure on the mother's body."

Fili felt his breath leaving his lungs. He had hoped that his fears would be unfounded, that he was unnecessarily tormenting himself. To hear them talk of Alana being in danger - of the _baby_ being in danger - had an aching void forming in the depths of his stomach.

From the other side of the door, he heard Alana sigh. "I just... I wish I could give him this. Why must it be that such happy news is ruined by this lingering cloud?"

"Pregnancy isn't easy for anyone, Alana," Oin pointed out. "Thorin would have always worried about you."

"But now his worries have a foundation to grow upon!" Alana argued, sounding pained. "He's got enough to worry about at the present time, as it is. I'd just hoped that something like this could lift that weight, not add to it!" Fili heard Alana sigh again. "Sorry," she murmured, "I didn't mean to lash out at you."

"It's fine," Oin assured her. "I've dealt with far worse, believe me." There was a moment of silence, making Fili wonder what was happening, before Oin spoke up again. "Look, lass, I know what I said to you must have been a shock, and you're right to make sure things are kept on top of... But there's no use worrying about it. Quite the opposite, in fact! Feeling stressed-"

"-Will cause the baby to feel under threat," Alana finished in a weary tone. "I know. I just can't help it."

"This is a scary time for everyone," Oin stated softly. "But you are scared most of all. Do you know why?"

"Because it'll be my fault if the babe dies...?"

Oin's reply was layered with thick disapproval. "Nay, lass, that's not true. It won't be your fault, and I'll be sure to come and smack some sense into you if I hear you've said that a second time." Fili allowed a tiny grin to stretch over his face at those words. Then Oin continued. "No, the reason no one else is as scared as you is because... they have limitless faith in your strength and will to see this through. You've survived what would have killed most. You've already performed a miracle by melting the ice around Thorin's heart - and I've known him for decades, so trust me when I say no one ever would have believed it had they not seen it for themselves. If anyone can get through this, it's you. We all have faith in you. Now you must simply learn to have faith in yourself."

Alana was quiet for a long time. "Okay," she said at length. "I'll try."

"You'd better do more than that," the old healer said with a mock-stern tone. "Now, go back to your duties. I don't want to see you back for two weeks, you hear? I'll throw you out if you show up at my door this time next week; don't think I won't!"

Laughing, Alana stated bemusedly, "I believe you." There was the sound of scuffling, then light footsteps, and then the door beside Fili's head was opened.

Alana stepped out, looking thoughtful, and didn't even notice he was there until the door was closed. She let out a light yelp, clearly not expecting to have someone waiting for her.

Fili's face was grim as he looked up at her, and Alana released yet another weary sigh.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Fili asked, having an idea, but not wanting to jump to conclusions too soon.

Alana ran her hands down her face. "We didn't want to ruin the moment for you," she admitted at length.

Huffing, Fili folded his arms over his chest. "You're our _family,_ Alana. We deserved to know!"

"What difference would it make?!" she shot back. "To know or not, it won't change the outcome."

"But it could give us some time to prepare should things go wrong!"

"And if things are fine, you'll have spent _months_ wondering 'what if' or 'maybe' for no reason!" Alana frowned. "I'm going through that _every day_ , Fili, and it's agony. I would _never_ wish that upon you. Not if I have the power to prevent it."

"I understand that," Fili urged. "I _do._ But I would much rather have known of this threat, regardless of whatever discomfort it will bring. There are more downsides, I think, to being kept in the dark."

Alana sighed. "Well, I guess there's nothing to be done anymore, anyway. You know the truth now."

Fili eyed her closely. "Are you really so scared that you will not get through this?"

Frowning, Alana nodded. "Of course. Why would I not be?"

"Oin wasn't lying when he said the rest of us have endless faith in you, and your strength and ability to see things through to the end, no matter what. I just don't understand why you continue to doubt yourself, given all that you have achieved in even just the last year and a half."

Alana sighed. "I suppose I just... never learn to think that way. As a Ranger, your achievements are merely part of you fulfilling the oath you took, to protect others with your very life, if necessary. You learn to accept that your achievements will not be noticed by those you are protecting, so you just... stop seeing them as achievements. They're just... things that have happened, I suppose." She shook her head. "Sorry, it's difficult to explain."

"No, I think I understand," Fili said, looking thoughtful. "But the people of the Shire and of Eriador in general are wrong not to give you credit where credit is due. Surely you must know that."

"It's just the way things are, Fili," Alana said quietly, shrugging. "It's how it's been for far longer than _I_ have been alive. It's hard for me to accept compliments and praise because... well..."

"Because it is not a significant part of your life," Fili finished, and Alana nodded. "Well, eventually, you'll learn to see yourself in the same light that everyone else sees you."

Alana laughed. "You know, Thorin keeps saying that. And yet, nothing has changed."

"It'll take time, that's all," stated the young Prince, shrugging again. "But I'm not worried. You'll see it eventually."

"Such confidence you have, _súyon_ ," Alana noted, amused. "Are you sure you're up to the challenge?"

Scoffing, Fili gave her a look. "You insult me greatly, _**irak'amad**_ , to have such doubts in me."

Laughing, Alana shook her head. "If you say so, Fee. Now, come on, we can't keep shirking our duties for too much longer. Someone will notice."

"Let them. I'm just keeping an eye on my aunt; is that such a bad thing?"

Alana smiled, placing her hand on Fili's shoulder and squeezing it gently. "No, Fee. Not at all. Thank you."

He patted her hand, smiling. "Anything for you, auntie. I mean it. Family is everything to me, and I will always look out for you."

"I know, Fee," she murmured. "And it's thinking like that which makes me sure that you're going to be a great King one day."

Fili flushed, grinning sheepishly, then muttered, "Thanks, Alana."


	31. Into The Wild Once More

**A/N: Due to some personal issues, I'm going to have to go on a temporary hiatus. I'm hoping it'll only last a couple weeks or so, but I'm just warning you now. I hope this next chapter will be enough to keep you going until my return (God, that sounds dramatic... :P)  
**

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* * *

 **'The strongest people make time to help others, even if they're struggling with their own personal demons.' ~ Unknown**

* * *

 **Chapter 31:**

Life under the mountain continued to flourish, the dwarves prospering and sending their wares out of the halls, bringing in supplies from other lands that could not be made or found in the northern part of the world. Thorin and Alana began to establish stronger and stronger allegiances with the other kingdoms of Middle Earth. The men of Rohan and Gondor were surprisingly forthcoming, but they too benefited greatly from being allies and trading partners with the newly-rising Lonely Mountain. For Rohan, their supplies (particularly coal, as they had recently discovered a large source of it in the Eastfold, amongst the fringes of the White Mountains) were traded for sums of gold. Gondor provided clothing materials and salt supplies, along with the occasional cart or two of granite, in return for carts full of various metals - particularly iron - and sometimes also precious stones.

Their allegiances did mean, however, that certain customs and traditions were expected to be followed, which - in this instance - meant that the King and Queen had been asked to perform a 'diplomatic visit' to the city of Minas Tirith. Thorin had wanted to politely decline, citing that Alana's pregnancy would make travelling difficult. But she pointed out that, even if it took six months to complete the whole trip, given the twelve month nature of dwarven pregnancies, she should still be safe to travel on horseback. Besides, there was implication of a new deal being made with the men of Gondor, that they wished to commission something be built by the dwarves of Erebor, and more business would be good for the growing kingdom.

So it was, that, as the last of the snow surrounding Erebor and Dale melted, the two set out from the mountain. They had left Fili in charge of Erebor and its people, with the aid of Dís and Balin, and anyone else whom the young Prince thought he would need (so probably Kili as well). With them came a small squadron of royal guards, four in number, and Dwalin and Makaylen.

Their departure had been... interesting.

Fili was understandably nervous about ruling the mountain kingdom for so long, but Thorin and Alana had both reassured him that they had complete faith in him, and that he could always send them a raven if he wanted to ask for advice on anything. Thorin had given Fili complete authority, which also meant that he was now the one in charge of the bandit issue plaguing Laketown. Thorin was sure that Fili would make him proud.

Dwalin and Balin had merely butted heads as their form of goodbye, neither particularly fond of getting weepy and sentimental, and that had been that.

But it was Kili and Makaylen's goodbyes that had caught Alana's eye, more than anything. She had honestly not believed Dís and Fili when they told her they saw the special bond forming between the two, but it was more obvious now. They had spoken quietly, away from the rest of the group, standing a little too close to be considered appropriate for friends. Then Kili had pulled the startled dam into a hug, murmuring something in her ear that caused her to relax and finally return the embrace. They had stayed like that for a long time, neither speaking nor moving, and when Makaylen finally walked away, Alana had watched as the despair settled over Kili's face.

"You see it now, don't you?" Fili had said to her, also noticing his brother's dampened spirits.

Alana had nodded slowly. "I do. But why could I not see it before?"

"Because you never looked back at them after they'd parted ways," came the simple response. "You only watched them when they were together. It was when they were apart that their attachment was most obvious."

It was expected to be a two month journey to Minas Tirith, provided they made steady progress each day and had no unfortunate encounters that would slow them down. Thorin made the first day of the journey feel stifling - he was frowning the whole time, and his dark brooding seemed to permeate through the whole group, causing them to fall into a heavy silence which then proceeded to make the air around them thick and uncomfortable. Even after the first day, his dark mood remained, though his travelling companions did their best not to let it get to them.

Their path took them along the western shore of the River Running, and after a further two days of travel they had made their way around the Long Lake and closer to the borders of Mirkwood. Many of the guards didn't want to go anywhere near the forest, but did not dare protest against their King and Queen, both of whom were determined to take the fastest and safest route that they could to and from Minas Tirith (and for similar reasons, as both had the well-being of their child in mind when they planned said route). Their plan was to skirt around the edges of Mirkwood, trek through the Brown Lands, and then follow the River Anduin past the Argonath and Nen Hithoel, through Ithilien and all the way down to Osgiliath, followed at last by a short stretch due west to Minas Tirith.

Their journey through the Brown Lands was expected to be the most difficult part of the route. Those lands were barren and desolate, not unlike the lands around the foot of Erebor before they started being cultivated and had begun sprouting little green shoots during the spring that had passed that very year. Vegetation was scarce, which meant wildlife would also not be seen very often, so they expected to struggle for food and water for a while. Their plan was to stock up on meats while they were still in fresher lands, preserve it with the salts they'd brought along with them, and hope that it would be enough to last them the week-long trek through that dismal wasteland.

On their fifth day of travel, when the area was quiet enough that only the rushing of the river to their left could be heard above the gentle sound of their mounts' footsteps, Thorin's mood finally seemed to shift. Alana had no idea what it was that caused the sudden change, but she wasn't going to complain.

The two settled into a quiet conversation about everything and nothing, enjoying the chance to talk about things other than business. With so much time focused on keeping the kingdom running, they didn't get a lot of time to themselves, though they did their best to make time wherever possible.

Behind them, Dwalin and Makaylen were riding side-by-side, keeping a wary eye on their surroundings, despite being in supposedly friendly territory (neither of them, though Dwalin in particular, trusted the elves all that much, regardless of the allegiance that had settled between them and the Woodland King).

At length, Makaylen turned to her mentor, and asked, "Are they always like this?"

Dwalin frowned, glancing curiously at her. "Like what?"

"Like they're the only two people in the world."

Dwalin chuckled. "Nay, not always, though they do a better job of it than anyone else I know. And it's not always a good thing - they're both as stubborn as each other and, despite the fact it doesn't happen often, the two of them can be nothing short of nightmarish once they get into an argument."

Makaylen smiled. "Kili mentioned that a while back - they used to fight quite frequently on the quest for Erebor, apparently. Is that true?"

Dwalin shrugged. "Often enough, I suppose. Not many people have the balls to stand up to Thorin, but she did it like it was the easiest thing in the world. Whenever she thought he'd made a stupid choice, she'd tell him. And he didn't often respond very positively to that."

"And how often was she proved right?" Makaylen queried, smirking.

Dwalin chuckled. "More often than not. She's got a good head on her shoulders, our lass. More than enough to contend with her husband, that's for sure."

"Do you think we'll get to see them fighting on this trip?"

Dwalin cocked an eyebrow. "It's something you _want_ to see?"

Shrugging, Makaylen nodded. "Yeah, kind of. It's just... they always seem to get on so well. Like the perfect pairing. I just want to see what happens when they butt heads."

Dwalin nodded contemplatively. "Well, lass, I suppose you'll find out soon enough. They've not had a lot of time together in the past months - probably why they got on so well; there's not enough time for them to find something to fight about. But... they're about to spend more than half a year with each other every single day, and Alana's pregnant. Aye, I'd say you'll get to see them fight, soon enough. I just wish the lad luck."

"Him and the rest of us," grumbled the guard behind them, clearly having been listening in. Dwalin and Makaylen turned in their saddles to face him. This was Nyr, one of the royal guard, who could often be seen hovering near or in the royal quarter. He was impressively broad-shouldered, even for a dwarf, with a thick beard the colour of copper and with eyes black like coal. He had come to know the King and Queen quite well recently - the two often talked to the guards stationed in the royal quarter, Alana especially, asking about their lives and such. Nyr was quite fond of the new Queen, and thought privately to himself that she had certainly made Thorin more pleasing company than the dwarf used to be. He shook his head. "My wife was a nightmare when she was pregnant - not that I'd ever tell her this. Every day she was either in pain or feeling ill, and the cravings gave her a temper worthy of the Gods themselves. I swear, she was one slip away from taking my head off most of the time. Now we've got to deal with all that _without_ the availability of foods like pickles or lemons or cheese. She'll likely have plenty of red meat, which is a blessing and make no mistake, but I am _not_ looking forward to when the cravings kick in."

Dwalin and Makaylen exchanged glances, then shared a smirk that had Nyr suddenly very apprehensive. "Well then," Makaylen began, grinning, "since you have so much experience with this sort of thing, _you_ can be in charge of calming her down as and when such instances occur."

Ignoring the indignant spluttering of the guard behind them, Dwalin and Makaylen turned back to the front of the group and urged their ponies forward, closing the gap between them and their esteemed monarchs.

* * *

After a week, the group still travelling along the fringes of the Woodland Realm, they were met by a group of elves. There was a moment of tension when the elves appeared, both sides preparing for the chance that the other group would attack, before Alana stepped forward with a smile, and the tension dissipated.

"Tauriel, _mellon_ _nín_ , what are you doing here?" she asked, bringing her arm across her chest and bowing.

Tauriel returned the motion, smiling slightly. After the Battle of the Five Armies, the two of them had settled their differences, like Alana had with Thranduil, and the two had formed a rather easy friendship with one another. "King Thranduil sent us to you," she answered. "To warn you that there have been many sightings of spiders in this area. They have fled now from Dol Guldur, but have taken refuge in the east of the forest. He asked that we accompany you, to offer extra arms in case you are attacked."

"Do you think us incapable of fighting the beasts off?" a guard snarled, grasping the handle of his warhammer in hand, but became significantly less hostile when Dwalin put his hand on the hammer and pushed the weapon down.

He turned to Tauriel, tilting his head to the side. "I'm sure a few extra blades would not go amiss."

"No," Thorin agreed with a terse smile, "it would not. We thank you for your offer, and accept, as graciously as we can in the circumstances."

Tauriel tilted her head to the side, and with a few quick words, the five elves behind her moved to trail behind the dwarven group. Tauriel moved to walk alongside Alana, the two taking the opportunity to catch up with one another.

"So, how is life as a Queen treating you?" the red-head asked, smiling.

Alana chuckled. "It is tiring work, and very time-consuming, but overall I cannot complain. I don't think I have ever had the chance to meet so many people in my life."

"Word of your rule has spread far and wide," Tauriel noted. "Everyone is very impressed by you, and your dwarves are very proud to have you leading them."

Smiling, Alana glanced back at the group behind them. The dwarves and elves were still walking in groups separate from one another, unsurprisingly, but neither group seemed disdainful or hostile towards the other, which she knew to be a large step forward compared to how it always used to be. "I am a proud to rule them," the Ranger answered at last, turning back to Tauriel. "They are good people; hard-working and loyal. I will always do right by them, if I can."

"And I'm sure they appreciate that." Her expression became thoughtful, perhaps a tad bitter. "It is not every monarch who would be willing to mingle with those they deem lesser than themselves."

"That is where the issue lies," Alana said immediately, frowning. "No man nor woman, no matter their station or the circumstances of their birth, is any more or less important than any other. Society may say that is so, but I do not agree. When I speak to my subjects, I do not speak to someone lower than myself, but someone who has put their trust in me to help keep them safe and healthy. Such trust is an honour, and not one that can go ignored."

With a soft smile on her face, Tauriel placed a hand on Alana's shoulder. " _Guren be hen, (I agree with you,)_ " she said. "Unfortunately, there are many who do not."

Alana hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps, if and when the Lonely Mountain prospers again, they will look upon the way that Thorin and I rule and begin to see the benefits of joining the classes. They do, after all, share the same kingdom, and they all are affected by every choice that is made." Tauriel smiled and nodded, but before she could say anything else on the matter, Alana decided to change the subject. "And what about you? How are things as Captain?"

"Much the same as it ever was," Tauriel admitted. "Though it is, perhaps, a little more lonely now without Legolas."

Alana hummed. "Do you know where he is?"

Tauriel smiled. "He is back in Eriador, I think. He met some of your Rangers and has become quite fond of them. I hear from him every now and then, but it is not a frequent correspondence that we share - both of us are far too busy to find the time to write more often than every few weeks."

"At least you're managing to stay in contact," Alana pointed out. "The only time I saw or heard from him was when he spontaneously showed up on the day of my wedding."

Tauriel grinned. "It doesn't surprise me that he chose to do that."

Alana rolled her eyes fondly. "I don't think I've ever met anyone as fond of dramatic entrances as that elf..."

"I don't know," Tauriel murmured, lips quirking up into a teasing smirk, "I hear you've had you fair share of said things in the past."

Shaking her head, Alana grumbled, "Of _course_ you know about those."

Laughing, Tauriel noted, "It's no bad thing."

"That depends on which ones you're talking about," the Ranger told her dryly. "There are some that I really wish I hadn't done." She sighed. "Still, that's a side to me I probably ought to leave behind now - I can no longer afford to let my immaturity run loose."

Frowning, Tauriel questioned, "Why not?"

Alana was surprised that Tauriel didn't know, as she thought it unlikely that word of her pregnancy wouldn't have travelled to other kingdoms. Perhaps the dwarves of Erebor were not such outrageous gossips as she had originally thought. "I'm pregnant."

Tauriel froze, stopping so suddenly that the dwarf walking behind her almost bumped into her. Her mouth was agape, her eyes wide. "Y-You're...?" Smiling, Alana nodded. Tauriel gaped for another second, before shakily asking, "How long?"

"Two months, give or take a week or so."

Tauriel's shock seemed to pass then, turning into disapproval. "Then why in Eru's name are you travelling all the way to _Gondor_?!"

Rolling her eyes, Alana told the elf the same thing she felt like she had regurgitated at least a dozen times by now. "Dwarfish pregnancies are twelve months long, and this trip with be six months _at most_. Besides, this is a diplomatic visit, and I can't very well be expected to _not_ travel to the White City the very first time we're invited there."

"You can if you're pregnant!" Tauriel argued, still frowning deeply. "The number of hazards you could be facing that will put your child in danger is... is innumerable! You must be mad!"

Groaning, Alana pinched the bridge of her nose, but before she could speak again, Thorin piped up. "I think we long ago established that Alana _is_ mad."

Alana glared at him. "Thorin..."

He smirked and winked at her, and Alana's irritation faded. He was only teasing her; there was no need to get so defensive. Thorin turned back to Tauriel. "Alana is well defended, not to mention she is very skilled with a blade herself. I made the same points to her when she first brought the idea up. Despite her reassurances, I was not about to let her leave without taking precautions; the rulers of Rohan, Lothlórien, and Mirkwood have all sent word saying they are willing to house us should we have any issues that are a cause for concern, and they will all be on-hand to dispatch riders and healers should we request it of them. It was only this knowledge that got me to agree to her idea in the first place."

Alana blinked. "You really did all that?"

Thorin raised an eyebrow. "Did you expect me _not_ to? It is not just your child that you are carrying, Alana. I was not willing to take any chances when it came to your safety, and the safety of our child."

She stared at him for a moment, a crease between her brows, before shaking her head. "Even after all this time, and after everything we've been through," she began, smiling, "you still find ways to surprise me."

Thorin chuckled. "I am glad to hear it, _**atamanel**_. Now come, we are losing time."

The group set off again, and though there remained a tension in the air between the elves and dwarves at first, it didn't last. When night fell, and they lit a campfire, the merry laughter and singing of the dwarves soon was enough to prompt the elves to relax a little, and soon they too began to join in with the singing and the general revelry.

Alana just sat back and watched, a pleased smile on her face.


	32. The Perks of Brotherhood

**A/N: I know, I know; I said two weeks and I'm here over a month later. I'm sorry for the delay, but things have just gotten really busy recently with my family and my upcoming exams etc etc. I'm posting this chapter because I finally managed to get it done, despite having like zero writing time right now. I'm warning you all now that chances are I won't be able to start updating regularly again until my exams finish, near the end of June. I'll post chapters as and when they're done, but they'll be all over the place for the next couple of months, I'm afraid. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy this chapter in the meanwhile.**

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* * *

 **'Brothers are the only ones who know when to offend you, and when to defend you.' ~ Finky**

* * *

 **Chapter 32:**

"I still can't believe Thorin let Alana go in the state that she's in," Fili grumbled to his little brother as the two of them walked through the streets of Erebor. It had been nearly two weeks since the group left, and Fili was finding his new workload as regent to the throne was... surprisingly bearable. It helped that he had Kili and his mother at his side, helping to make the difficult choices and advise him when he needed it. Balin, too, helped where he could, thus allowing Fili to spend more time to himself than Thorin ever did. He contemplated the idea of requesting that Thorin share his work out a little more upon his return; he knew that the King and Queen saw little of each other, save when they woke and when they retired for the night, and the occasions when they sat in council meetings together.

Kili glanced over at his brother, looking significantly less troubled. "I don't like it either," he admitted. "But Alana can look after herself, and she's got the others with her as well. I don't doubt that she's as safe as she'll ever be, short of having an army of five hundred at her back. And that's hardly subtle. Not to mention it would look quite threatening to have a dwarfish army show up at your doorstep. The Steward of Gondor undoubtedly wouldn't take kindly to-"

"Kili," Fili cut in, sounding dryly amused, "you're rambling."

"That doesn't make me wrong," Kili pointed out. He sighed. "Look, Fili, we know Thorin wouldn't have let Alana go without taking precautions. She may be reckless, and true, she does have a habit of overlooking things when her own safety is concerned, but Thorin is much more careful than that. And he'd never dare to let anything harm Alana, let alone the child she carries." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "The timing of this is... not ideal, to put it lightly. But there's nothing we can do at this point - they're far enough from here now that we couldn't reach them if we tried. We just have to trust that they are smart enough and capable enough to get through this without our help. Which, based on the fact that Thorin and Alana are the best swordsmen on this side of the Misty Mountains, is highly likely."

Fili exhaled heavily, taking his time before sucking in his next breath. "I suppose you're right, little brother. For once."

Kili looked affronted. "And what's _that_ supposed to mean?!"

Smirking, Fili glanced over at Kili in the corner of his eyes. "As the youngest of our family, it is down to you to get things wrong, is it not? And as the oldest, it is I who is supposed to always be right."

Kili rolled his eyes. "Oh, so it was _my_ fault that _you_ decided to shirk our duties and have a sparring competition, during which time our ponies got stolen by trolls, was it?"

Fili huffed. "That was different," he muttered, a defensive edge to his voice. "No one could have known they were going to do that."

"It was still your idea," Kili persisted, "ergo, the loss of said ponies was _your_ fault."

Eyeing his brother, Fili took a moment to consider him, then chuckled under his breath. "You make your point well, _**nadadith**_. Perhaps there is some use to you, after all."

Groaning, Kili pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why did you choose today, of all days, to be one of the days where you spend every free moment that you can insulting me?"

Fili shrugged, grinning. "It makes me feel better."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Kili muttered dryly, making Fili grin again.

Then the blonde Prince became more serious, and he clapped his brother on the back. "In all honestly, Kee, I appreciate you trying to help. And I _do_ feel better than before."

Kili smiled, wrapping his arm around his brother's shoulders. "You might be older, Fee, but I'm still allowed to look after you as much as you look after me."

"And I appreciate it." Fili repeated, grinning, before his eyes narrowed on a new detail on Kili's face that he hadn't noticed before. His eyebrows rose. "Your beard's growing thicker," he noted, smirking. "Congratulations, brother."

Lips quirking up at the sides, Kili nudged his brother teasingly. "You know what that means?"

Fili frowned. "What?"

"It means that my beard started growing at a younger age than yours. You were - what? - eighty when yours started to properly grow out?"

Fili chuckled. "Aye," he agreed, before ruffling Kili's hair and laughing at the brunette's indignant cry of horror as he hurriedly tried to fix the mess that Fili had made. "But you're still my little brother, Kili, and don't you forget it."

Kili smiled, giving up on making his hair presentable again, and just leaving it as it was. "Of course I won't," he said, feigning insult. "It means I get to learn from your mistakes, and that, brother dear, is an invaluable thing."

Laughing, Fili patted Kili's shoulder. "Love you too, Kee."

* * *

The travelling party reached the southernmost point of the forest of Mirkwood after two weeks exactly, with no incidents or run-ins with any of the spiders they'd been warned about. The dwarfish group had said a surprisingly amiable goodbye to their elven companions, and Tauriel's troop disappeared into the trees, while the dwarfish party continued on towards the Brown Lands. Shortly after the departure of the elves, they had turned dismounted from their ponies and sent them back towards Erebor - the journey ahead would not be suitable for their beasts of burden.

The route they had chosen would hopefully take no more than a week to cross, having picked the path that led them to the shores of the river Anduin in as short a distance as possible. Still, no one was looking forward to that week, despite being confident that they would get through it easily enough.

It took a day and a half to reach the borders of those lands, during which time Alana spent the long hours with her bow in hand, eyes skirting the surrounding lands. It became normal for the Ranger to silently slip away from the group, eyes directed towards the ground, and to return shortly after with a pheasant or a rabbit in her hand, which they would skin and carefully preserve the next time they made camp. What with their existing stores, and the additional meat that Alana caught over those thirty-six hours, they had enough food to last the group of eight around ten days, with careful rationing. They all hoped that walking along the Great River would provide them with a plentiful food source, even if they had to survive on nothing but river fish for a while.

The Brown Lands came upon them so gradually that, at first, most of them didn't notice. The small bushes in the grass dwindled and then eventually disappeared entirely, and the grass became gradually yellower and yellower, before fading into a dry-wheat colour. It was at this point, as the group stopped to make camp, that Alana announced that they had passed beyond the border of the desolate plain shortly after they had stopped for lunch, she being far more familiar with the wild world this side of the Misty Mountains than the rest of her companions.

The dwarves had been more subdued since the elves had left them. Alana had half a mind to think that the dwarves had only been so merry and loud while the elves were there just to prove that they weren't to be put off by the presence of 'pointy-ears'. But she knew that the dwarves and elves had formed a grudging respect for one another, each race admiring the other's stalwart nature and willingness to defend those who needed it.

Honestly, Alana was convinced that the two races were not so different after all, as shown in their equal stubbornness and determination not to show themselves as being even a little bit friendly towards someone of the other race. It was frustrating, but she knew that getting over age-old differences would take time.

She was only glad that she had managed to convince Thorin that such displays of stubbornness were completely unnecessary. Since then, he had been far more receptive to the idea of elves as allies, and had even been friendly with those like Lord Elrond and his sons, and Lady Galadriel too. Thranduil was still a bit of a sore subject for her husband (and, to an extent, for her as well), but they were no longer bitter enemies, and she saw that as excellent progress.

"What are you thinking about?" Thorin asked her, gently combing his fingers through her hair. Alana was lying comfortably in his lap, while he was propped up on one arm. They had spent most evenings like this, much to the obvious surprise of their guards, and the amusement of Dwalin and Makaylen.

Nyr was the only guard she knew well, though she knew everyone's names, and he had admitted that they were not expecting such open affection from their monarchs. When she asked why that was so, Nyr had admitted that Thorin had never been the sort to participate in such things, and the change had caught them off guard. Thorin was very different to how he used to be, in a lot of ways, he told her, before musing to himself, "I suppose that's just what meeting your One does to a dwarf."

Alana tilted her head up towards her husband, feeling like a pile of mush as he continued to trail his hands over her long tresses. He loved her hair, and she loved the feeling of his fingers running though it, so it was an intimacy they both enjoyed immensely. "Just things," she told him, smiling when he rolled his eyes at the ambiguous nature of her response.

"Things," he repeated dryly. "Well, as _helpful_ as that response was, I was rather hoping for a more specific answer than that, _**atamanel**_."

Giggling, Alana looked back at their small group and admitted, "I was thinking about our relationship with the elves."

"I see," Thorin said after a brief pause. "And what about it caught your attention so?"

"It seems backwards," she murmured, closing her eyes in bliss as Thorin's fingers began massaging her scalp. "Dwarves and elves are really quite alike, when you think about it; you're both stubborn as mules, are excellent warriors, have a great love of cheer and songs and music. You would do anything to protect your own, come dragon fire or high water. You take equally as much pride in your homes, carved as they are out of stone and wood. By all accounts, you should be the best of friends."

Thorin chuckled. "Only if we agreed on everything," he pointed out. "We may be equally as stubborn as one another - though, really, I think we dwarves have the edge in that area - but that will cause issues as soon as we come to a disagreement, as we will be equally as unwilling as the other to back down."

"I suppose," Alana murmured, burying her face in Thorin's legs and ignoring the way Thorin's grip on her hair tightened for a moment in surprise. "Still feels backwards, though."

"Maybe it is," the dwarf King admitted reluctantly. "But, thanks to _your_ stubborn determination, we are slowly building bridges where gorges had formed, and we are rebuilding our links with the elven realms."

"One twig at a time," Alana noted in amusement.

Thorin nodded, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. "Aye, it will take a while. But I believe that we will manage, eventually."

"I hope so," she mumbled, feeling a wave of tiredness wash over - which was quite normal for her, these days. "It's such a pain sometimes, you being at odds with each other."

Thorin chuckled softly, but said nothing. Instead, he began humming quietly to her, his deep voice swiftly lulling her into a blissful sleep.

* * *

The days that followed were dreary and monotonous, but at least they were making good progress. They woke early, packed up their camp, and continued onwards. They no longer bothered to stop for lunch, eating their food in their saddles, and travelling roughly an extra four miles a day because of that.

Their fourth day in the Brown Lands was when Alana's cravings kicked in.

She knew enough about pregnancies to know what was happening to her, and did her best not to complain about the lack of sweet foods. Still, there was only so much _salt_ a pregnant woman could take, so when dinner came around on that fourth day, and she was handed another piece of salted pheasant breast, she felt like bursting into tears.

She winced at the thought, acknowledging to herself that it seemed as if her emotional imbalance had started as well.

Alana sat with her meat in her hands, not eating it, for a good ten minutes before anyone noticed that something was amiss - Thorin had gone to sit with Dwalin, after making sure she had been given enough to eat, and was across the fire from her.

It was Makaylen, in the end, that noticed Alana's sudden lack of appetite. She sat beside her Queen and asked quietly, "Will you not eat that?"

Alana shook her head. "It is too salty for me now," she admitted quietly. "I do not think I could handle even a mouthful without throwing it up again."

Frowning in concern, Makaylen pointed out, "Well, you can't just eating _nothing_."

"I know," Alana murmured, picking at the meat in her hands, but still not eating it. "But there is no point in wasting food by eating it and throwing it up. It is better to leave it alone, so that someone else may eat it as and when they need it."

"But _you_ need food more than the rest of us," Makaylen reminded her. "You are eating for two, remember?"

"I _know_ ," Alana insisted, sounding agitated now. "I _know_ , Makaylen. But what can I do?"

Thorin appeared by her side then, looking concerned. "You are not eating," he noticed, and Alana released a pitiful groan at the thought of having to convince _two_ stubborn dwarves that she couldn't _possibly_ be expected eat something that she was _sure_ would make her want to throw up.

"I don't think Alana's body can handle the salt we use to preserve the meat anymore," Makaylen explained, taking pity on her clearly miserable friend. "But we have nothing else to give her."

Thorin frowned deeply. " _ **Atamanel**_ , you must eat-"

"I _know that_ , Thorin," she cut in sharply, her irritation catching him unawares and causing him to blink at her in shock. "Do you think me stupid? But if I cannot stomach the food I am given, then that will be worse than not eating anything, because either way I will be with an empty stomach, but in the second scenario I will also feel ill."

"Then what do you propose?" Thorin asked her, voice hardening slightly. Makaylen looked between the two, realising that this may be the start of the fight she had - admittedly - been rather eagerly anticipating for a while now, and quietly made her exit. Neither noticed. "That you go without any food at all until we are able to find fresh meat? That could be _days_ , Alana, and I will not let you starve yourself just because you do not wish to eat the food that we have."

Alana glared at him. "Do you think I _want_ to be in this situation? I have no desire to feel this way, but, alas, here we are. Do you expect me to have infinite power over which foods will and will not make me ill?"

Thorin scowled. "I would hope that you had more concern over the well-being of not just yourself, but also our child, who, might I remind you, will also not be getting food while you refuse to eat."

Alana leapt to her feet, face dark with fury, though Thorin didn't flinch back. "Don't you _dare_ use him against me! I am _well_ aware of the fact that _your child_ is growing in my womb, and I am _terrified_ that I am putting him in danger! You think I want to do that?! Do you truly think me so heartless that I would _forget_ about him while I drown in my own woes?!" She sneered down at him. "I thought you knew me better."

Alana pushed past him roughly, but was stopped when his voice sounded again. "Then tell me what we must do." Thorin's voice had lost its sharp edge, sounding wearied, and Alana sighed, her anger and frustration melting away. Thorin was just trying to look out for her, she knew, but she hadn't been able to stop herself from trying to fight him. Turning back, Alana faced her husband, taking note of his furrowed brows, and the worried downturn of his lips. "If you will not eat what we have, and we cannot find more food, what can we do? There must be _something._ "

Alana sighed. "I don't know, Thorin," she admitted, averting her gaze. "I'm sorry that I've made things difficult by being here." She glanced at the group, most of whom quickly looked away, acting as if they hadn't been watching the whole thing take place. "Maybe you were right," she said at last. "Maybe I never should have left Erebor."

Thorin chuckled softly. "By Mahal, I never thought I'd live to see the day."

Alana frowned, confused. "What day?"

"The day when you would concede defeat," he answered, smiling in amusement. "The day you back down and admit that I might not be completely mad."

Alana grinned crookedly. "You _are_ mad," she teased, mirroring his own words. "And fiercely overprotective of me, sometimes. It is unusual for me to argue with your premise; it is your solutions and conclusions that I fight against."

Thorin chuckled, nodding. "So it seems." He hummed thoughtfully, looking around. "Still, now that we are here, I think I would prefer that you would stay. We cannot really afford to send someone back with you, and I have no desire to see you make the journey alone. Even the most capable are under serious threat when they travel by themselves." He sighed. "Stay, please. We will find a solution to this problem, I promise."

Alana nodded. "Okay, Thorin, I trust you. And... I'm sorry for lashing out."

Thorin chuckled. "I hardly took it sitting down," he pointed out. "Don't apologise, for I have nothing to forgive. Let us just try to find something for you to eat - without coming to blows, if at all possible."

Smirking, Alana mused cheerfully, "Well, I suppose that is doable, my Lord. But I make no promises."

Shaking his head, but still smiling, Thorin and Alana returned to the camp and sat down together, acting as if they had never been at odds.

Makaylen watched with a frown, and missed Dwalin appearing next to her. "You look disappointed, lass," he noted, amused.

"I was... expecting more," she admitted. "That didn't even last two minutes!"

Grunting, Dwalin admitted, "They're far better now than they used to be. I suppose that should be taken into account. But there's still a long way to go yet, and a long time in which to witness another fight." He slapped her on the shoulder. "But don't look forward to days like that too much, lass. There were times in the past when they refused to talk to each other for days on end, and it just made the rest of us miserable too."

Makaylen shrugged. "Whether I look forward to it or not will not change the possibility of it happening. The least I can do, in that scenario, is make the most of it."

Chuckling to himself, Dwalin had to agree. "Aye, lass. Perhaps you're right."


	33. Creeping Doubts

**A/N: Gods, it's been ages, I know, but I'm STILL super busy right now and, to top it all off, my exams start on Monday (joy...!) Still, I managed to squeeze this chapter into existence, and I'll hopefully have a little more time before too long to pick up the pace again. I'm so sorry for all the delays, but anyway, I hope you enjoy this shortish chapter. Better than nothing, right?**

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 **'You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something in your life.' ~ Winston Churchill**

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 **Chapter 33:**

Alana went the night without eating, having recoiled so strongly when Thorin again suggested that she eat some of the meat they had (the mere scent of it had her feeling dangerously close to losing the already meagre contents of her stomach) that eventually the dwarf admitted defeat with a long sigh.

Luckily, however, a murder of crows flew overhead the next morning, and Alana was able to shoot down several of the birds, allowing her to cook the meat (barely - she had grown impatient while the meat was cooking and eventually just took it off while it was still half-raw) and eat it without the added salt. Everyone was understandably much happier after that.

They hoped that the carrion meat would last long enough for them to reach the river, only two days away now, at which point they would have the option of catching fish for the meals, and with the healthier shores they would hopefully find some berries or fruits that would help to satiate Alana's cravings for sweet foods.

The weather took a turn for the worst during the day – dark clouds had gathered overhead during the course of the morning, and shortly after noon, they released their load. The rain fell hard and heavy, soaking them to the bone in a matter of minutes, and they continued on in a state of perpetual misery. It was moments like this that Alana missed Bofur's cheerful optimism, which had never really seemed to dwindle during their quest to reclaim Erebor – no matter the weather, he would always have a smile on his face, or a song on his lips.

There was no such light-heartedness this time around, though Alana did her best, moving between each of her travelling companions and talking to them, trying to keep their spirits up. But, much like at the beginning of the quest for Erebor, she didn't really know most of them well enough to keep a conversation going for more than five minutes, so her efforts were rather short-lived.

By the time they came to rest for the night, they'd been travelling in silence for at least four hours, each of them locked in their own dour thoughts. Thorin became particularly short with everyone, being the worst affected by the rain (though this was unsurprising for Dwalin and Alana, both of whom were used to travelling with him in such weather conditions).

They made camp without the added warmth of a fire, being unable to find any firewood that wasn't soaked through, and being unable to light what little they _could_ find. Once again, Alana couldn't help but silently mourn the loss of their previous company - for Oin and Gloin had a special talent for lighting even the most impossible of fires. She glanced across the camp, met Dwalin's darkened gaze and his fixed scowl, and realised that she wasn't the only one to wish that.

"Explain something to me," Nyr piped up from the darkness, his body far more relaxed than everyone else's. He was sat with his legs outstretched in front of him, propped up on his hands and his head tilted ever so slightly skyward. He seemed the least bothered by the rain, and almost seemed to be enjoying it. "How exactly is it that the Brown Lands are so barren? They are surrounded on all sides by prosperous, fertile lands. They clearly experience rainfall. Why is it that nothing grows?"

There was a distinct quietness following his question, and Alana realised with raised eyebrows that no one else knew the answer (they were, after all, dwarves, and had little need or want to know of growing things, but their lack of knowledge still surprised her). So, inhaling softly, she explained. "The Entwives were driven away."

"The who-nows?" Makaylen asked, frowning.

Alana chuckled. "I'm sure you know of the Ents in Fangorn Forest, yes?" A chorus of affirmations circled the group. "Well," she began, "the Entwives are - as the name suggests - the female equivalents of the Ents. This land was their garden, long ago. They looked after it, cultivated it, kept it fresh and green. Then, during the War of the Last Alliance, Sauron's forces stormed their home and ruined it. The Entwives have not been seen since - whether they were killed or are simply lost, no one really knows, though most favour the former option. It is unclear, also, why the land refuses to repair itself. Perhaps only the Entwives' return would be enough to bring about new life in this place, but if they have truly been wiped out, then there may be no hope left."

There was a moment of silence.

"And what do you think happened, _**melhekhinhul**_?" asked Nyr, tilting his head to the side as he gazed curiously at her.

Alana pondered for a moment. "I don't know," she admitted at last. "I want to believe that they're still out there, somewhere, but after nearly three thousand years and no sign of them...? It's getting into the realm of impossibility now."

"You don't think they could be found?" Thorin asked her, surprised by her answer. She had always been one of the more optimistic people he knew, and to hear her speak in such a way caught him by surprise.

Alana sighed. "I honestly can't think of a place throughout Middle Earth that could keep them hidden for so long, save Mordor itself. And if they went into that godforsaken land... I don't think they'd have survived long there. Certainly not three millennia. That place is simply too hostile." She looked around her, so much as possible given the late hour and the spreading darkness of night, and the ever-present curtain of rain. "But imagine how beautiful this land could be, should the Entwives return."

"I've never put much stock in the beauty of nature," Dwalin grunted. "Plants and flowers don't keep you alive."

"Neither do precious gems and stones," Alana pointed out with a smile. "Yet no dwarf worth his salt would deny that they are precious to them, in a way that, perhaps, goes beyond their understanding. It is more an instinct, yes?"

One of the guards - Cathan, his name was - glanced at her, eyebrow raised. "You seem to know a lot about the lives of dwarves, my Lady. For someone who isn't one, I mean."

Alana eyed him bemusedly for a moment, before giving a wan smile. "It doesn't take long to become accustomed to your habits, Master Cathan. Besides, as far as I know, all races feel a pull towards _something_. For dwarves, it is precious gems; for elves, it is nature, as it is for hobbit-kind. My people have lived near and amongst those two races for many generations - those same instincts have since been written into our blood. My people respect nature, and the things it gives us - food, supplies, materials for buildings. It forms the foundations of our homes. Our cities. I have spent my life living in the wild, Master Dwarf. I understand what it means to have something that is precious to you, rare though it may be."

Nyr chuckled, flopping back into a lying position, apparently uncaring that he landed in a muddy puddle. "It's strange how easily you manage to make people look at things differently."

Alana frowned. "I do... what?"

Thorin joined in with Nyr's quiet laughter. "It's true, _**atamanel**_. There are some things that I have seen in one way my entire life, and yet, after one conversation with you, I often find myself changing my view of it completely. It's a rather remarkable skill of yours. I believe it is what allowed you to get over your differences with the elven King."

Alana huffed. "I may not hate him anymore," she said, grinning, "but it can't be denied he's still a _tarlang naeg nedh adel. (obstinate pain in the arse.)_ "

The confused expressions of eight of her nine companions made Alana's grin widen, but it was Thorin's suppressed snort that had her truly perking up. Then he clearly decided to abandon his composure, threw his head back, and all but _roared_ with laughter, which was a ridiculously pleasant sound to hear after a day of misery in the wake of the dismal weather.

"Not that I don't agree with you, _**_****san _ ** _ ** ** **âzyung******_**_****_**_ ," Thorin said at length, still grinning broadly, "but you probably ought to be more careful with your language."

Alana shrugged. "I'm not in Erebor anymore. The wild has no rules; I can swear about or at whomever I wish. Mahal knows I've got several months of restraint to make up for."

"You are still the Queen, though," Nyr pointed out, not bothering to shift his head from its position against the ground. He continued staring up at the sky even as he spoke, letting the cold rain water fall on his face. "And you will be the Queen wherever you go."

"Perhaps," Alana allowed, eyes on Thorin, whom she knew had been about to make the same argument. "But I am also a Ranger. And, of those two roles, I do believe that a Ranger is far more suited to this environment, don't you agree?"

Nyr thought for a moment, before asking, "Do women have secret meetings discussing how to win arguments, or is it just something you are all born able to do?"

Laughing, Alana replied, "I've certainly been to no meetings, Master Dwarf. I suppose you must simply accept that women know best."

"Or," Thorin piped up, eyes shining teasingly as Alana returned her gaze to him, eyebrow arched in such a way that dared him to argue, "perhaps you must simply accept that women are always right. Even when they're wrong."

A ring of laughter circled the group as Alana (and Makaylen, in the background) rolled her eyes. " _Amin delotha lle, (I hate you,)_ " the Ranger grumbled.

"No, you don't," came the snarky reply, as it always did.

Makaylen piped up then. "When did you learn elvish?"

Thorin chuckled softly. "A long time ago; my father had me learn from a young age. I was never especially fluent, but Alana has helped me to get better in recent months."

"What use is there is learning the tongue of those poncy tree-shaggers anyway?" asked Rogvi, another of their accompanying guard. He didn't talk much, and, quite frankly, Alana was glad for it. Her first impressions of the dwarf weren't good, and as a result she didn't think much of Rogvi's character.

Thorin, it seemed, also seemed inclined not to like the quiet dwarf, nor his words. "The elves are our allies now, Rogvi. You would do well to remember that. Jests and teasing are well and good; open disdain and insults are not something I will tolerate any longer. Not even when the elves are absent."

Rogvi scoffed. "Just 'cause we're pretending to be friends now doesn't change the fact of what they are. They don't care anymore for us than they did before, so why should we act any different?"

"We may not be the best of friends," Thorin said, causing Rogvi to scoff in agreement, "but our allegiance benefits both races. To jeopardise that would be incredibly foolish."

"Didn't stop your dear old grandfather doing it, though, eh?" Rogvi shot back, and a silent intake of breath shot through the whole group.

Dwalin then growled. "You watch your words, _**burgel**_ ," he snapped, and Alana noticed his hand falling to one if his axes. "Remember who it is you are speaking to."

" _ **Akhal, _ ** _ ** _ **b ** _â_** hul**_**_**_, (Peace, my friend,)**_" Thorin ordered gently. "Master Rogvi is merely voicing his opinion, and that is allowed." He turned to face Rogvi directly, his expression harder and colder than it had been before. "As I said, to jeopardise an alliance that is strong is something only a fool would do, and in his later years, that is what my grandfather became. He was blinded by his greed and lust for gold, and it controlled him so completely that his actions lost all semblance of reason or wisdom. I loved my grandfather, but I am not blind to his irrationality, nor any of his other flaws. His mistakes are to be learned from, not repeated."

Rogvi sneered. "So you instead choose to stand by your _**absanunul y _ ** _ ** _ ** _ ** ** _â_****_**_**_**_ sith** _and let our people fall to the level of bootlickers and sycophants?"

Alana didn't know the first word he said, though she knew enough to know it was aimed at her, and she was sure it wasn't complimentary. The fact that Thorin, Dwalin, Makaylen and Nyr all jumped to their feet with furious cries of protest only proved that theory. The other guards looked utterly shocked, staring at Rogvi with wide eyes, as if what he'd said was unspeakable. Which, she mused, might explain why she didn't know what it meant. It had taken some convincing, but Ori had taught her the odd curse word and swear in khuzdul, but none of the more severe ones.

" _ **Rukhs shirumund caragu! (Beardless orc dung!)**_ " Dwalin snarled, grasping his axes in his hands and holding them threateningly close to Rogvi's neck, though the dwarf himself looked impressively unperturbed. " _ **Dai melhekhinhu! Ishgimruk, fa zabamakhrashi lagbum _ ** ** _êzu_****_! (She is your queen! Apologise, or I will cut off your tongue!)**_"

Rogvi clearly had a death wish, because he said, "I will not apologise for speaking the truth."

"The truth?!" Makaylen growled, hand also hovering close to her weapon. "You could not be further from the truth, _**kakhufith**_."

Rogvi smiled in such a way that gave Alana the impression he thought he was dealing with a child experiencing a tantrum. "How can you be so sure? The race of men does not have the same sense of loyalty as we do. They are greedy, desire power more than most. And her past is unknown to us."

"It is not unknown to me," Thorin cut in coldly. "Nor is her character. Perhaps I would expect such thing from someone like _you_ , Rogvi. But not Alana. You insult her greatly by saying such things."

Rogvi snarled. "I would never dare-!"

"And neither would she," Nyr cut in sharply, frowning, seeming as hostile as the others yet not reaching for his weapon. "Do you not pay any attention to her deeds? Queen Alana is honest and kind, and _certainly_ not deserving of your hatred, nor you baseless insults."

Smiling bitterly, Rogvi stated, "I do not hate her. I simply do not trust her, nor her intentions."

"My intentions?" Alana repeated incredulously, looking rather offended. "What foul intentions could you possibly imagine me to have, to cause such distrust?"

He looked at her blandly. "As I said, your race is prone to weakness. Men are drawn to power the way a moth is drawn to a flame."

"Power," she repeated blandly. "You think I want power? What exactly is it that makes you believe that about me, besides my race?"

Something about the lack of emotion in her voice clearly bothered him. Understandably, he (and everyone else) had been expecting anger or annoyance in response to his accusation, but she remained calm. Rogvi sniffed. "I am simply suspicious, is all, about how quickly you were able to win everyone over. The King. The council. The rest of our people."

"It was nothing more or less than Alana's good heart," Makaylen cut in, scowling. "And her desire to see our race rise up higher than it has before."

"But why?" Rogvi pushed. "What reason could she possibly have to wish the dwarves to be successful? Over her own people, no less."

"As far as I'm concerned," Alana said calmly, "the dwarves _are_ my people."

"But they didn't used to be," he snapped, in the way a child might when he wasn't getting his way. "Before the mountain was reclaimed, you had no ties to us. If that is not proof of your kind's tendency to shift their loyalties at a whim, I don't know what is."

"My loyalty is to my kin, Master Rogvi," Alana explained calmly. "That's all. The race of men has looked down on me, and spat at my feet, and insulted me and my kind for my whole life. My loyalty was never to them - it was to my family, and to their legacy. I became a Ranger to follow in my father's footsteps. That was the legacy he passed on to me, and it gave me the ability to move on, and create my own. I joined the dwarves on their quest for Erebor as a favour to an old friend, it is true. I had no previous ties to them, nor was there any debt to be repaid. But as we travelled I grew to love them - all of them - in one way or another. They became my family, in a way that no other man of different blood ever has. My loyalty lies with them, as it always will." She smiled. "It is not power that I desire. It is not riches, nor fame. I desire to see your people happy and comfortable. I desire that, because that is what your people have given me. I can do no less than return the favour."

Rogvi stared at her with wide eyes, and Alana hoped that perhaps she had been able to change his opinion of her, even if only a little. She didn't judge him for being suspicious, and in a way she could see the sense in all his arguments. She herself often marvelled at the way this situation had come to be - despite a few bumps in the road, both big and small, her journey to this point had proved far smoother than she had ever expected it to be. But she had never been known for backing down, for not fighting back. She wouldn't allow herself to ever do that. So she had used her words to the best of her ability, trying to explain herself to a dwarf who was clearly determined not to trust her.

She didn't know if she had made a difference. She also wasn't sure how much his opinions really affected things - regardless of those, he was a guard, and had sworn an oath to protect herself and Thorin with his very life, if it became necessary. One thing she knew about dwarves was that they always kept their words.

The dwarf didn't say anything more, and Alana also became silent. Slowly, one by one, those who had immediately jumped to her defence reclaimed their seats around the fire. The atmosphere had undoubtedly changed, had become a little less relaxed than it had been before, but Alana didn't mind.

She smiled at Thorin as he sat beside her, like she always did, and let herself lean against him when he wrapped an arm around her waist. Neither of them said a word, but neither of them needed to. The warmth of the silence that surrounded them was enough.


	34. Inevitability

**A/N: Whelp, it has officially been a month since my last update. Uuuuugggghhhhhh. SO sorry about that, but at the very least, my exams are done now (my God, FINALLY!) I've spent the last two days trying to catch up a little on my writing, having finally beat off my writer's block (also hurray), and so I have this for you. Hope you like it and hopefully (with a bit of luck), updates will be coming more regularly again.**

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 **StarAvengerWho: I too have returned at last! Heh... Hoped you enjoyed you choir tour :)**

 **RainAstiel: I know, I know, and I feel terrible for leaving for so long. But I haven't abandoned this story, I promise. Just hit a rough patch. Thanks for sticking with me :)**

 **ro781727: Some people are just like that, unfortunately. You'll have to see what happens with him... ;)**

 **JollyRoger1: Heh, yeah, I know, it's been a while... Sorry... (again)...**

 **Sparky She-Demon: Haha, yup, it definitely is. Still haven't decided if I'm ever going to translate it... We'll have to see, I suppose**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Interesting that you thought his name was Rogviouaghdbxjvfs... XD Thanks for the well-wishes, everything went fine, I think (hope)... :P**

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 **'I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.' ~ J.R.R. Tolkien, _Faramir_ / _The Two Towers_**

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 **Chapter 34:**

Everyone was relieved to see the Anduin come into view. The group's water levels were teetering on the edge of dangerously low, and they were all now growing bored of the same food daily. Alana's cravings had remained, seemingly growing stronger with each passing hour, leaving her to become short-tempered and quick to snap and lash out. Even at Thorin. That didn't stop him from walking beside her, though, tangling his fingers with hers during her calmer moments and reassuring her that it would get better. She appreciated that, even if she did a lousy job of showing it.

Though Alana begged and pleaded for the chance to bathe, Thorin insisted that they continue moving. There would be plenty of opportunities for her to wash while they journeyed alongside the river, including that very night. There was no point, he argued, in stopping for that very purpose, when she could just wait until nightfall. While Alana grumbled that 'night was still a long time away', she relented. Everyone in the group grew concerned that she might be in a bad mood for the rest of the day, but were pleasantly surprised when Alana found a series of blackberry bushes growing on the shore less than an hour later, and had delightedly begun picking and eating the sweet berries. While she paused, the rest of the group (save for Makaylen, who was still Alana's personal guard, whether in or out of Erebor) continued on without her. About ten minutes later, stomachs laden with fruit, Alana and Makaylen rejoined the group, the woman's cravings satisfied for the time being.

They maintained their usual steady march throughout the day, making the most of the water and the grass that grew on the edge of the river. They were still painfully aware of the presence of the Brown Lands nearby, the fresh grass surviving maybe twenty metres before becoming dry and deadened towards the east, but it was enough to perk their moods.

Alana, strangely, seemed in such a good mood that she was full of a foreign energy that never faded or waned, but instead seemed to grow in size as time passed. While some watched her enthusiasm with bewildered expressions, the majority of the group seemed to garner some long-awaited humour from her antics. Alana spent two hours in the afternoon with her boots in her hands and her breeches rolled up to her knees, wading through the river water with a serene expression on her face. She seemed completely impervious to the fact that the water remained icy-cold, given the lingering touch of winter.

At long last, night fell. No one was surprised when Alana immediately rushed off around the river bend to bathe, Makaylen trudging rather grudgingly behind without a word. She didn't mind her duties in the slightest, and Alana had become a dear friend, with whom she had no qualms about spending all this extra time; but still, she had rather hoped the pregnant woman would wait until they had eaten before disappearing off to wash. Makaylen had felt the gnawing ache of hunger in her stomach for the last hour and a half, and had been looking forward to having a hot meal to fill the void. In a way, she could understand Alana's desire to be clean - having sweat and dirt sticking to you from days of travelling wasn't a pleasant experience, by any means - but she personally didn't think there was much point in bathing, since said dirt and sweat would only gather on her skin again within the next day or so.

Still, while Alana stripped off her clothes and rushed into the river, Makaylen sat herself on the ground with her back against a tree, juggling and twirling a knife between her fingers. While her fingers moved, her mind focused on the sights and sounds around her, searching for any kind of potential danger while simultaneously keeping an eye on Alana. Dwarves weren't well known for their sense of personal privacy, having public bath houses that were often the favoured choice over a private bath. They were a kind that thrived in a communal environment, and so the concept of being self-conscious wasn't a commonly occurring one amongst her kind. Alana, despite being of the race of men, didn't seem to care much, either. Certainly, she hadn't asked Makaylen to turn her back, and the dwarrowdam was not naive enough to believe that she hadn't been spotted by the Ranger woman.

Fifteen minutes later, Alana emerged from the river like a different person. The dirt and grime had built up slowly during their travels, so Makaylen had never really noticed its presence, but the lack of it now was startling. She had forgotten that Alana's skin was so pale, and she could imagine how refreshing the wash had been for her Queen. Perhaps she ought to reconsider the thought of going in, given how much difference a short bath seemed to make.

Then her eyes drifted a little, and consequently narrowed. Alana was around three months into her pregnancy at this point, and while most dwarrowdams didn't start to show until their fourth or fifth month, there was definitely a change to Alana's figure. Her hips were a little fleshier, her waist a little wider. And when she turned to pick up her clothing, Makaylen also noticed that her stomach was also starting to show signs of outward growth.

"What?"

Makaylen blinked, looking up to find Alana staring at her with bemusement and confusion. "You're starting to show," she explained.

Eyebrows rising, Alana glanced down at herself. "Am I?"

"Only in small ways," the dam replied, holstering her knife. "You're a little less... flat... than normal."

Laughter danced across her face. "Flat?" Alana repeated. "You mean I'm getting fatter, right?"

Makaylen shrugged. "I didn't want to say anything that might offend you."

Alana let out a light chuckle, finally starting to pull on her clothes. "I know that I'm pregnant, Makaylen," she pointed out, voice coated in her lingering amusement. "Becoming fatter is just a part of that. Besides, if you wanted to offend me, you'd have to try a lot harder than _that_."

Grinning, Makaylen quipped, "Well, that's good to know."

Rolling her eyes, Alana grabbed piece of cloth and wrapped it around her breasts, before pulling on her dark grey undershirt. She then picked up her armoured corset-vest and cloak, before bundling them up into a small ball. With her breeches and boots already in place, Alana was pretty much done. She smiled at Makaylen. "You ready to go?" she asked.

"Mahal, yes," came the instant reply. "I'm starving! They'd better have dinner done, or I might go mad."

Laughing again, Alana patted her friend sympathetically on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Kayla, I'm sure they won't let you starve."

Scoffing, Makaylen grumbled, "It feels that way, sometimes."

"You're just impatient," Alana teased, grinning when Makaylen glared at her.

They reached the camp just as their dinner was being distributed. Releasing a quiet cheer, Makaylen rushed forward to snatch away her share, while Alana found her bed roll and pack, and dumped her clothes on the ground.

When she straightened again, Nyr was stood in front of her, holding out her portion of the fish that had been caught during the course of the day. Alana accepted her food with a grateful smile.

"Are you not cold, my Lady?" Nyr asked her, eyes scanning over her - in his eyes - under-dressed form.

Alana shrugged. "Not really, no," she said, heading towards the campfire. "For the last week or so, it's been incredibly easy for me to overheat. Effects of the pregnancy, I'd imagine. So, really, I'm fine. I've always been more tolerant to cold than most men, anyway. All the dúnedain are."

Nyr nodded thoughtfully, chewing at his fish while Alana took her first bite. He let out a quiet laugh when she moaned softly. "How are your cravings today?"

Alana nodded. "Better," she admitted. "The blackberries we came across earlier certainly helped." A guilty expression crossed her face. "I'm sorry for all the pain I've been causing everyone. I know it can't be easy having to deal with my mood swings all the time."

"It's not," Nyr stated bluntly. "But we all understand why its happening, and, certainly as far as I'm concerned, you're nowhere near as bad as my wife was when she was pregnant."

With a smile dancing on the edge of her lips, Alana asked, "And what makes you say that?"

"Well, her morning sickness was much more constant than yours, as was her bad temper. Every morning I'd wake to the sound of her retching - which is an unpleasant thing on its own - and then she'd yell at me for getting her into the, and I quote, 'Mahal-forsaken mess' that she was in. After that, if I didn't get her the food that she wanted within about fifteen minutes, she's start yelling _again._ " Nyr chuckled. "Mahal, I love that woman, but she can be a little frightening when she's shouting. She's normally quite level-headed, I'll have you know. Well..." He paused. "For a dwarf, anyway." That time, Alana joined in with his light laughter. "I don't know whether or not to feel glad that I wasn't the only victim of her temper. Market stall owners, random passers-by, children, a particularly curious pony... It didn't matter who or what you were; if you caught her in a bad mood, you were in serious trouble. And this was all before her sixth month!"

Laughing, Alana admitted, "Your wife sounds like quite the character."

Nyr huffed. "That's certainly one way to put it," he grumbled. "Still, I wouldn't have her any other way. She's a damned fine lass, and I'm more than happy to be her husband."

Alana couldn't help smiling at that, moving her eyes to where Thorin was sat across the fire with Dwalin, the two having a clearly quite heated conversation of their own. "I think I might now the feeling," she murmured idly, frowning when she saw Thorin's frustration grow. Whatever Dwalin was saying, it wasn't making Thorin happy.

Nyr noticed her vacant attention, and followed her gaze. He watched the King and General for a few seconds, also picking up on the discord between them. "What do you think they're talking about?" he asked.

Alana's frown deepened. "I have no idea," she said slowly, unease starting to form in the pit of her stomach.

Her eyes widened when she heard a growl in the distance, carried their way by the wind. It was a growl she recognised instantly. Alana was up on her feet in a flash, startling Nyr beside her, who watched in confusion as she approached her bed roll with long strides. His confusion mounted when he watched her pick up her sword, pulling the blade from its sheath and leaving the piece of leather on the ground. Her eyes scanned over their surroundings, body and mind completely alert.

Nyr clearly wasn't the only one to notice her suddenly stiffness. Thorin called to her from across the fire. "Alana, what's-?" He silenced himself when Alana held up a hand, and the camp became dead quiet, except for the gentle crackling of the fire. That was when Nyr finally heard it - the howl of a warg. He, and everyone else in the group, was on their feet with weapons in hand in a heartbeat, creating a haphazard circle as they tried to scan every leaf and blade of grass in the surrounding area.

They all knew it was only a matter of time before their good progress was interrupted. Alana had wondered how long it would take - given how much trouble they encountered on the journey to Erebor, the fact that they had lasted this long without issue was almost a pleasant surprise. Almost.

"We need more light," Makaylen grumbled from by Alana's side, the dam having moved quickly to protect her, though they both hoped it wouldn't be necessary.

Alana glanced over at her. "Short of setting the ground on fire, I don't think we can find any more. Not that the ground with light anyway - it's still wet from yesterday's rain."

Makaylen narrowed her eyes as the growls grew closer. The group all took another step back, standing now almost shoulder to shoulder. "Someone's going to get hurt."

"It was a risk we knew was present when we left home," Thorin piped up from Makaylen's other side, his sword starting to glow dimly in the cool light of the evening. Glancing down, Alana saw that her blade was also flickering to life. "We are all well trained. As long as we watch each other's backs, and our own, we will survive."

With a strangely light-hearted tone for the rather grim situation, Alana mock-grumbled, "The _one_ time we don't have a wizard at hand..."

Thorin chuckled. "He does have an uncanny ability of being able to get people out of tight spots."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll show up right at the last minute to save our as-"

"Alana," Thorin cut in, eyebrow cocked in mild amusement which he was clearly trying to hide behind a mask of disapproval. "Language." Alana rolled her eyes in response.

Being so close meant that Makaylen heard the whole conversation, and she sent a disbelieving look over at Dwalin, who was standing across from her. "Are they always like this?"

"More often than you'd think," he grumbled, tightening his grip on his axes. "Though it's definitely gotten worse since they got married."

The conversation died down quickly after that, the group tense and waiting for their enemy come into view. Makaylen was right - their little campfire didn't offer them a lot of light, but as long as they didn't wander too far, it should be enough. The first warg that came close enough to be seen was to Alana's right, its hackles raised and its teeth bared, and low, grunting growls escaped its lips. Within seconds, eight more joined it, forming a circle around the group of dwarves and cutting off any escape routes.

Dwalin grunted, grasping his axes tighter. "Eight of them, eight of us. It's like they didn't even want to give us a challenge."

Alana glanced back at him. "There's more."

"How do you know?" Makaylen asked, frowning and risking a glance at her Queen.

"My sword is glowing," came the terse reply. "So is Thorin's. Only orcs and goblins cause it to do that; not wargs. Once we defeat these first few, do not drop you guard, any of you. There is a good chance we will have to fight a second battle shortly afterwards."

The group fell quiet again, watching the group of wargs as they shuffled impatiently on their feet, snapping and snarling, as if waiting for orders to charge. The dwarven group remained more composed, each warrior grasping their chosen weapon with confidence and surety, barely even shifting their weight as they anticipated the wargs' attack.

They did not have to wait long.

With a low snarl, one of the smaller wargs lowered the front of its body and sprung forward, leaping at Dwalin. The other seven wargs followed closely behind, sending the group into a whirl of metal. Alana darted to the left as her warg crashed onto the patch of grass where she had previously been standing, not giving the beast enough time to whirl on her before her blade plunged its way into the warg's neck, spattering her hand and wrist with its hot, red blood. Ripping her sword free of its flesh, she took a second to ensure the beast wasn't going to get up again before glancing at the dwarves on either side of her.

Makaylen had somehow managed to jump onto the back of her opponent, and as it tried to shake her off she wrapped the curved blade at the end of her scythe around the warg's neck and gave a strong heave in the opposite direction. The warg's head flew cleanly from its body.

On her right, Nyr had just yanked his sword out from between his attacker's eyes, the warg falling into a crumbled heap at the dwarf's feet. The two exchanged a look, both silently checking the other over for injuries, before they turned to scrutinise the rest of the group. Thorin and Dwalin had already felled their opponents, and Cathan was dispatching his even as they watched. Rogvi and the last of the dwarven guard, an older warrior by the name of Haldur, were still battling their wargs, but it was only a second or two more before their foes were dead with the rest.

Sure that they were all unharmed for now, Alana glanced down at her blade. The blue glow was bright now, almost painfully so, which meant that the orcs were either very close by, or in great number. It was impossible to tell which, and neither was it possible to know if it was a factor of both. Their enemies numbers had been reduced, but how many more were waiting for them in the shadows? Half a dozen? Ten? Thirty? There was no way of knowing.

The dwarven party reformed their circle, still holding onto their weapons and staring resolutely out into the growing darkness.

Once more, they waited.

Then, it seemed, their nightmares slunk into the firelight.

Alana's eyes widened as no less than twenty wargs prowled into a loose circle around them, heads turned towards the dwarves. The wargs circled the dwarves with murderous intent in their eyes, seemingly uncaring about the fact that they were stepping on the still-warm corpses of their kin. Fourteen of the wargs had orcs on their backs, each carrying a crude, black blade which gleamed dully in the low light.

Nyr grumbled from beside her, "I think our chances of survival tonight have just dropped through the floor."

"Oh, come on, Nyr!" Alana said, a teasing tone in her voice even as her face remained set like stone, eyeing the animals that circled them. "You'll never survive with an attitude like that!"

Nyr shot her an incredulous look. "And what attitude do you think I should adopt, my Queen?"

A grin flickered over her lips as Alana sunk into her low crouch, watching how the warg and orc closest to her twitched in anticipation. "You always assume you're going to win."

This time, Alana took the chance to lunge forward, instigating the fight. Her kin roared out cries behind her and surged into battle, their weapons flashing. The orc she was facing was the first to fall, Alana making use of the length of her sword and using the tip to slice a fine cut in the orc's neck. It sagged to the side, causing the warg next to her opponent to stumble over its body.

The two beasts then turned their beady eyes on her, releasing low snarls. Alana huffed, readjusting her grip on her sword, dancing out of the way of the first warg as it lunged at her, then instantly ducking under the second. Her blade arced up, slicing the beast from neck to naval, and it landed in a dead heap behind her. Jumping up, the Ranger only barely managed to avoid having her head caught in the teeth of her other opponent, who had followed his companion's example and leapt at her. As it sped past, Alana's sword caught at its left hind leg, and it instantly became a whining, whimpering mess as it tumbled and tripped over its own paws. With a roll of her eyes, Alana walked calmly up to the warg and then thrust her sword through the top of its skull, tugging it out only when she was satisfied that the warg had breathed its last.

Makaylen was, as ever, a permanent presence by her side, spinning her scythe with a skill and precision that Alana had never seen before. Unconcerned with her friend's health, Alana turned to her other side and released a startled yelp, ducking just in time to avoid being beheaded by a particularly unpleasant-looking orc bearing a rusted machete. With a growl of annoyance at her own absent-mindedness, Alana kicked the orc into the direction of Makaylen, who didn't so much as bat an eyelid before sweeping her scythe in a graceful arc and leaving a deep gash across the orcs sternum that sent it careening towards the ground.

That was when Alana became aware of another battle taking place not far from her; one where the orcs were winning. Rogvi was surrounded by three wargs, two of them bearing orc riders. He was battling them off admirably, but they were breaking through his defences - a little longer and he'd be surrounded on all sides.

Alana plunged back into battle, taking out another orc (who had been unseated from his mount) on the way, before she found herself fighting at Rogvi's side. The dwarf took a moment to be startled by her sudden appearance, before he shook it away and the two of them began battling a new fight together. Alana's sword sung as it sliced through the air, sometimes catching fur or skin, others being blocked by one of the orcs' weapons. Rogvi moved to guard her back, while she guarded his. In spite of whatever disagreements they'd had, neither was willing to put the other's life at risk due to their own neglect.

One of the wargs - the only one without a rider - managed to catch the corner of Alana's cloak in between its teeth, giving it a harsh yank. Alana felt her throat constrict briefly as the cloak pressed against her skin, before the material ripped and the cloak sprang free. The warg tossed his head from side to side twice, before flinging the muddied piece of material away. The warg turned back, only to be met by the sight of Alana's bared teeth, and a split-second later her sword was plunged into its throat, blade tip protruding from the top of its skull.

A low growl was Alana's only warning of another impending threat, and she was unable to reclaim her sword before she had to dart out of the way of the warg and its rider. Drawing her long knife, which she had stashed on the opposite side of her waist than her sword, Alana lowered into a crouch as she observed her opponent. Deciding to take a leaf out of Makaylen's book, Alana grabbed hold of the orc as the warg swung back towards her, using the expectation that the orc would do anything to remain seated as a way to ensure she would be able to swing herself onto the warg's back. As soon as she was in place, her short blade plunged into the orc's neck. She threw it off, before leaning forward and slicing through the warg's throat.

With a yelp, the warg fell forward, and Alana was pitched off its back. Using her momentum to her advantage, Alana rolled when she hit the ground, and thus was able to quickly recover and stand up.

Rogvi was by her side again, staring at her with wide eyes, and therefore completely unaware of the warg coming up behind him. With a cry of warning, Alana shoved the dwarf aside, only having enough time to raise her hands in an automatic response as the warg's full weight hit her with all the force of a battering ram. The air was forced from her lungs as Alana hit the ground, and as she struggled to regain her breath, she rolled onto her front, peering up at the warg who was already making the return charge. With a feeble groan, Alana rolled to the side, avoiding its war path by a mere few inches, before she finally managed to suck in an all-important lungful of air.

She staggered to her feet, but before she could so much as flinch for her weapon, Thorin was beside her, driving his sword into the warg's throat and killing it just before it was able to reach her for the third time.

Their surroundings were suddenly dead silent. Looking around, Alana was pleased to see that they were all still alive. Cathan and Nyr both had minor scratches, and Rogvi was now limping, but none of them had been fatally wounded.

With a long sigh, Alana sheathed her short blade and headed back the way she had come. With a heave, she rolled a warg's body from its front onto its side, and was just reaching for her sword - which was still implanted in its skull - when a large hand wrapped around her wrist and stopped her.

Confused, Alana looked up, meeting the blue eyes that she knew so well. The look of utter rage on his face, however, was something she hadn't come face-to-face with in a long time.

A hollow dread settled in the pit of her stomach.


	35. The Big Fight

**A/N: Hello again :) Got to admit, I loved the response to the last chapter, because some of you were like 'Alana that was really stupid' and others were like 'Thorin, calm down, she's fine'... XP**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: Saddles18, angle fish and belz. irwin**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **MissCallaLilly: Yeah, he's good at doing that...**

 **ro781727: Yeah, she has her moments, that's for sure**

 **RainAstiel: I almost like to think Alana uses her pregnancy as an excuse to be grumpy because she knows it's pretty much the only time she can get away with it... :P**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Well, I don't think Thorin's going to be particularly keen to follow the 'don't shout' part of that... XD**

 **HelloJawsie: And I love how readers point out things that I didn't even notice... XD It's weird, though, because now you've pointed it out, it seems really obvious (you're talking about from RWBY, right?)**

* * *

 **'It was careless, but it was not a wilful and reckless disregard for safety.' ~ Laura McElroy**

* * *

 **Chapter 35:**

Normally, Alana would have protested against the force that Thorin was using as he dragged her away from the others, but this time she didn't dare. She didn't particularly feel like having her head ripped off, and, unfortunately, that was exactly what Thorin's expression threatened.

Quite what she'd done to receive his anger, she wasn't sure, but it must have been something terrible.

Thorin finally let go of her wrist, the two having reached the river. Alana was silent and still as she watched her husband start to pace up and down, running his hands over his face in aggravation. Maybe he was trying to calm himself down so he didn't lash out. Maybe he was just trying to find the right words. Alana didn't know. It was like his entire countenance had been closed off, and suddenly she couldn't read him anymore.

At length, Thorin stopped moving, and lowered his hands. Then he turned his back on her, staring out over the river and beyond. There was a moment of absolute stillness between them, and Alana hardly dared to breathe in fear of breaking this spell. Whatever it was Thorin had to say, she knew she would not enjoy it.

"Are you alright?"

A frown crossed her face. Thorin's voice was tight, restrained, and yet anxious at the same time. "I'm fine," she answered slowly. "Didn't even get scratched."

A muscle on the side of Thorin's neck twitched, and Alana could imagine him clenching his jaw. "You should not have done that."

Alana balked. "Should not have-? Should not have done _what_ , exactly?"

Thorin swivelled his body to the side, turning his head to she could see his face. "You were reckless," he continued, as if she hadn't spoken. "You were careless. You were _this far_ -" he held his hand up to show his fingers mere millimetres apart "-from wandering into the realm of utter _stupidity_."

Alana blinked at him, astounded. "I don't-"

Thorin didn't let her finish, whirling around at last so that his whole body was now facing her. "What in Mahal's name possessed you to do such a thing?!"

"I don't have a bloody clue what you're talking about!"

Thorin rolled his eyes. "You threw yourself into the path of one of those wargs! You _deliberately_ put yourself in danger-"

"To save Rogvi's life!" Alana shot back, astounded. "He would have died if I hadn't intervened!"

Thorin's face darkened. "Better it be him than you."

Scowling, Alana took a step closer. "Is his life so meaningless to you? He swore to protect us both, and we in return promised to do the same! You said it yourself - 'as long as we watch each other's backs, we will survive'. There was no way that I-"

"You didn't have to launch yourself into the path of that creature," Thorin cut in, frowning. "There was any number of ways you could have helped without putting yourself directly in harm's way. But you didn't _think_ -"

"Of course I didn't bloody think!" Alana snapped back, nostrils flaring. "There was no _time_ to think! I barely had time to act, let alone consider every possible scenario to the smallest detail. Even if I _had_ gone at the beast with a blade, I'd have had to push Rogvi out of the way anyway!"

"Then perhaps you should have left him-"

"To be slaughtered by an animal?" Alana finished incredulously. "Durin's beard, Thorin! Why the hell would I do that?"

"To protect yourself! To protect the life that you carry! To make sure that the Queen of Erebor, and our firstborn, was kept safe from harm!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not just going to stand aside and let someone get hurt if I have the power to stop it. And you know what? I _am_ the Queen of Erebor, and part of my responsibility is _looking after my people!_ "

Thorin's scowl deepened further. "Not at the expense of your own life."

"But I'm fine! Look at me! Not a damn scratch! Neither of us were hurt!"

Growling, Thorin took a step forward, so that they were now almost nose to nose. "That's not the point! You _could_ have been. And we don't know what effect this could have had on our baby. We don't know yet if you've done him harm."

"So I'm to step aside and let someone get killed because I _might_ do some damage to myself?" Alana asked, voice dripping with scorn. "If you really think I'd do that, Thorin Oakenshield, then perhaps you ought to question how well you really know me."

"Rogvi is not the heir to the throne," Thorin pointed out darkly.

Alana laughed bitterly. "So you _do_ think his life is worthless." It wasn't posed as a question.

"No," he snapped, "but it is _worth less_ than both yours and our son's. There is no comparison."

For a long time, Alana just stared at him through narrowed eyes, fighting back a fresh surge of anger at his words. With careful consideration, Alana leaned down until their noses were almost touching, and said in a biting tone, "No single life is any more or less important than any other. We both knew that I was prepared to do whatever it took to keep everyone safe the moment we left Erebor." She sneered, straightening up. "I suppose thanks are in order."

Warily, Thorin questioned, "For what?"

"For informing me of exactly how little faith you have in me." She shot him one last nasty look, before spinning on her heel and stalking away, twisting the ring on her finger as she did so.

The rest of the group were piling the orc and warg bodies up when she returned to them, though she barely spared a glance before she continued storming on, letting herself fume in silence.

Watching her go, Makaylen glanced at Dwalin. "I missed it, didn't I? The big fight."

Dwalin hummed, looking after his friend with furrowed brows. "Aye, it looks like you did. I can't remember the last time I saw her that upset."

"Well," Makaylen murmured, "I can't imagine the pregnancy hormones are helping at all." She paused. "Do you think I should go after her?"

Considering for a moment, Dwalin turned back towards the direction of the river, but there was no sign of Thorin. "No," he said at last. "I think they both need a little time to cool off before they see anyone else. There's no need to run the risk of angering them further."

"How long do you think they're going to be angry at each other?"

"Who knows?" Dwalin grunted, exhaling loudly. "They could forgive each other the next time they speak, or it could take days. I didn't see the argument, so I don't know how serious it was, but... based on the fact that Alana stormed off, I can guess it wasn't pretty."

Makaylen frowned, glancing back in the direction that Alana had been going before the darkness swallowed her up. "I hope she doesn't do anything to endanger herself."

"She's not stupid," came the simple response "and she knows how to look after herself. She'll be perfectly fine."

"I hope you're right..."

* * *

Things were still going rather smoothly for Fili, and the longer he acted as regent, the more comfortable he became in his role. Though he still occasionally sought help from his friends and family, he was confident enough now to not need their advice so much.

Before Alana had left, she had made it blatantly clear how valuable she thought having a commoner on the King's council would be, and, despite the fact he knew his uncle had reservations, Fili had talked the situation through with Balin and Dís. Both agreed that there would be a benefit to having a different opinion on the council, but that - in order for it to stick once Thorin returned - they would have to find someone that the King and Queen trusted without a shadow of the doubt.

So Fili had gathered what remained of the company in the royal quarter to ask for someone to offer their services.

Looking at them, Fili couldn't help but smile. He remembered a time, right at the beginning of the quest, when the company wasn't familiar enough with each other to extend beyond family members. Ori, Dori and Nori always sat together, as did Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, and the Durins didn't tend to stray far beyond immediate relatives either. Now, they were a jumbled mess. Bofur was laughing with Nori. Dori and Oin were having a rather loud conversation about something (he attributed the loudness to Oin's suspiciously selective deafness). Bombur and Bifur were talking about what it was like working in the market with Ori. Gloin and Balin were reminiscing over shared memories. Kili was the only one silent beside himself, the two Princes standing side-by-side, simply watching the chaos unfold before them.

"Any ideas as to who you think would work best?" Kili asked.

Fili shrugged. "It's difficult to judge. Any of them would be a benefit to the council, but how welcomed they'd be by the others is very dependent on where they stand. All of them are rich enough to become noblemen now, but I'd imagine many on the council would see the fact that none of them have chosen to become such as a shortcoming. Besides," here, he glanced over at his brother, "I'm not really going to ask a specific person to do it. I want them to volunteer."

"I can't imagine all that many of them would want to run the risk of losing their craft for this."

"Which is why it has to be their decision, not mine."

Nodding in understanding, Kili took that as a signal that the time was right, so he put two fingers in his mouth and let out a loud, high-pitched whistle which successfully drew all attention their way. Fili rolled his eyes at his brother's actions, and the smug smirk that was crawling its way onto the brunette's face, but nonetheless stepped forward to address his friends.

"Some of you may be aware of why I asked you to come here," he began, "but I'm going to clear up the matter for those of you who don't. Before they left, Thorin and Alana were in discussion over the possibility of filling the empty space on the council with someone who wasn't of noble blood. Someone who had a greater connection to the majority of the people of Erebor. Alana supported the idea wholeheartedly, and though Thorin had his doubts, I'm sure we all know she'd manage to convince him of the idea eventually." A round of chuckles filled the room, and even Fili had to crack a grin. They were all well aware of the persuasive power that Alana had over Thorin when she was determined to have him understand her view. He cleared his throat and began again. "Over the last week or two, I've discussed the idea with Balin and my mother, and between the three of us we agreed that the best option would be to choose someone whom Thorin and Alana trust unhesitatingly. Naturally, that is why all of you are here."

"You want one of us to join the council?" Ori asked, eyes wide with surprise and, from what Fili could determine, mild trepidation.

Fili nodded. "All of you are well-known to be honourable and just dwarves, a view shared by the members of the council, and the people will put their faith in every one of you. There is no doubt in my mind of that." He paused, thinking over his words. "I want you to understand that I will not be the one to make this decision. This choice must be made of your own free will. But before you make any hard and fast decisions, I want to inform you of the full price to be paid if you agree. Every difficult and important decision to be made goes through the council first. You will be a part of that decision process. Each of you has a view of the world that differs to that of the men who sit on the council now - your words and views will be invaluable, even if the others would be hesitant to admit it. But there is, as there always is, a catch. The council gathers together most days, in the morning. Sometimes they also meet in the afternoon as well. Being a councillor will take up most of your time, meaning whatever crafts or hobbies you now have will often need to be pushed aside. There will be _some_ time to do said things, but it will not be anywhere near as much time as is available to you now. If you agree to do this, I must warn you that it is no small commitment."

The members of the company exchanged glances when Fili finished speaking, and he wondered if any of them would offer to do this. It was no small thing he was asking of them, and he would have preferred not to have to do so, knowing how much they all loved and valued their chosen crafts, but-

"I'll do it."

Fili's head snapped up, recognising the voice that spoke without a moment of doubt. All heads turned to face Bofur, who looked his usual, relaxed self. There seemed to be no sign of conflict in his eyes.

Still, Fili had to be sure. "Are you certain you're happy to do this?"

Bofur nodded. "Aye, I'm sure. Working in the mines means I'm close to a lot of people who want their voices heard. 'Sides, all I have to do to get ready to work is pick up an axe. It'd be easy for me to go down there and get on with things once the council's done."

Fili couldn't deny that he was relieved to hear that Bofur wouldn't have to give up his work completely. "Then we'll be more than happy to take you on. Thank you, Bofur."

Bofur nodded, and the serious, professional air dropped again. The group began once more murmuring amongst themselves, and Fili could see that there were a few who were grateful that someone else had taken the rope. He didn't blame them in the slightest.

"Any word from the envoy group lately?" Gloin piped up, and silence once again fell.

Fili nodded, though his expression dimmed. "We had a letter from Thorin just this morning. They made it across the Brown Lands with no trouble and are now making their way along the Anduin. They're about three weeks away from Minas Tirith now."

Gloin frowned, eyeing the Crown Prince closely. "And what's the bit you're not telling us, lad?"

Fili hesitated a moment, and glanced over at Kili. His younger brother's lips were pursed, but he nodded nonetheless. Heaving a great sigh, Fili admitted, "They had an encounter with an orc pack. Thorin estimated their numbers to be in the region of three dozen." The group stirred, anticipating bad news. "The group are fine. None were seriously injured in the conflict."

"But...?" Ori prompted nervously.

Fili sighed. "Thorin didn't express the details in his letter, but he told us that he and Alana got into a fight. A big one. The morning after the battle... Alana was approached by one of the mearas. She's riding ahead to Minas Tirith alone. Whatever it was they fought about clearly upset her a lot. She wouldn't even let Makaylen go with her. He said she should be there in just a few days."

"Is she going to be alright?" Ori asked quietly.

Kili scoffed, and Fili looked over at his brother. "Alana spent years looking after herself before she met us, remember? She can also fight as well as Thorin. Couple all that with the fact she's riding one of the fastest horses in the world and so no one will be able to catch up with her... She'll be perfectly fine. She'll be in Minas Tirith by the week's end, and then she'll have an army of men to keep her safe until the rest arrive. Alana will be perfectly safe."

"Kili's right," Fili said firmly. "Mahal only knows how many times she's saved our lives in the last few years. If nothing else, take comfort from the fact that she's much less careless with her own life when she doesn't have anyone else nearby that she feels she has to protect." Another round of grumbling laughter, and Fili finally allowed himself to smile again.

Receiving the letter from Thorin about Alana leaving the safety of the envoy had worried him, and his curiosity over what could have possibly driven her to that point was squirming in his stomach. He didn't bother asking about it; if Thorin had wanted to tell him, he would have done so. Even reading the letter, Fili had been able to recognise that his uncle was not completely unaffected by his wife's disappearance. Whatever they'd fought about, the two had clearly been angry. Fili didn't doubt that words were said that neither of them truly meant. Some of the words Thorin had written seemed too thought-out to be anything but planned beforehand, and there were a few shaky letters as well that betrayed his uncle's hand. Thorin was worried, and likely seriously regretted whatever he had said to make her upset enough to drive her away.

Still, Kili had a good point, and it had helped to calm Fili's nerves; Alana was almost _more_ safe now that she was alone. A lone rider was less of a threat than a large group, and, as his little bother had so aptly pointed out, she wouldn't have anyone to save except herself. She could be tremendously reckless when other lives were in danger - both he and his brother had experienced that first hand.

He only hoped she had taken the time to think through her options before she left. She would be safer behind the fortified walls of Minas Tirith, yes. But he had felt more comfort knowing she was protected by Thorin and Dwalin and Makaylen and the other guards, even if they were few in number.

"Hey," Kili said quietly, drawing Fili from his thoughts. Kili's eyes were soft and comforting as he placed a firm hand on Fili's shoulder. "Everything's going to be fine, Fee."

"I know," he said, nodding. "But even so, I'd rather have her in the hands of friends than the hands of strangers."

Kili shrugged. "The son of the Steward knows her well enough at this point. I'm sure he will make sure she's looked after. The race of men may not share a lot of our views, but I know they value the life of children as strongly as we do. Alana will have her every desire attended to, I'm sure." A crooked grin quickly formed on his face. "I feel like I should wish them luck; Mahal only knows how Alana is going to act as her pregnancy progresses."

"Perhaps Thorin is lucky to be missing a month of it," Fili mused, sharing in Kili's amusement for moment. "I miss them," he admitted quietly after their laughter died down. "Everything is different now that they're gone."

"I miss them too," Kili agreed. "But every second they're gone is another second closer to when we get to see them again. Take comfort in that, if you can."

Fili smiled, throwing an arm around Kili's shoulders. "What would I do without you, brother?"

"I dread to think," came the simple, bland response.


	36. Separation

**A/N: Greetings all...! I'm still loving how torn you are by the Alana/Thorin conflict, and you're all making very valid points :) Hopefully this chapter will clear up a few queries you have...**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: anyway20, Lone-Wolf-Ranger and pinkiceangelbaby.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Sparky She-Demon: She'll get there eventually, but you can't blame her for relying on her instincts in a situation like that :P**

 **RainAstiel: I always considered Bofur to be very optimistic, and any insults from his mouth would be the teasing/good-natured kind. Still, guess you'll have to find out :) As for Alana and Thorin, they were both in a rather stressful situation, so they were allowed to overreact ;)**

 **animexchick: Alana'll be fine, I promise ;)**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Don't we all... *sigh* ;P**

* * *

 **'Like fragile ice anger passes away in time.' ~ Ovid**

* * *

 **Chapter 36:**

Alana had remained furious at Thorin for two days, pushing her new mount hard as they raced through the green lands in and around the kingdom of Gondor. On the night of the second day, however, as she camped on the banks of the Anduin, her anger seemed to dissipate.

From her spot, she could just about make out the shadow of Cair Andros, residing both south and east of her position. She didn't know exactly what it was that cooled her anger, but perhaps being in a familiar place was one of the reasons.

Alana had visited Minas Tirith only once before, but she had travelled through Ithilien almost half a dozen times. The Rangers of these lands and the Rangers of the north did not often interact with one another, if for no other reason than they lived half a world apart, but Alana had always had a greater desire for travel than many of her kin. Curiosity was what had driven her to seek out the Rangers of Ithilien the first time, and the four successive visits beyond that were to meet with friends and to learn more about them. Though the two groups' purpose was much the same, the fighting styles they adopted could often be quite different. On her previous visits, Alana had imparted some of her knowledge in exchange for some of theirs.

Alana didn't sleep much that night, locked as she was in feelings of despair and guilt. She felt terrible for what she'd said to Thorin, and even more so about the fact that she had so easily left the group without looking back. Every moment that passed, she could feel her heart tugging back, trying to reunite with its other half. But turning back now was nonsensical, and she knew Thorin had a point - she needed to take care of her baby, and she would be safest in Minas Tirith, behind its walls. When she reached the city, she decided, she would write a letter to Thorin, apologising for her words, and telling him she was safe. Because that was all he ever wanted - her safety. She'd jeopardised that, and he had reacted to it. Though she in no way regretted her actions in pushing Rogvi out of the way, she knew that he, too, had been right.

When dawn sent an array of bright colours through the sky, Alana packed up her camp, swallowed down a chunk of stale bread and fish, before she mounted her horse again. The mearas that had answered her call was not Firebrand, and she had lamented that for a moment. But Firebrand had a family to take care of now, and was still likely in the lands surrounding Erebor. The horse that had met her was a piebald mare with a black mane and tail. She was more mischievous than Firebrand, often dancing on her hooves or, when Alana was not on her back, frisking in the grass or rolling around in it. Alana was sure that, one day, her behaviour might be a cause for annoyance, but was grateful that, so far, it had just made her laugh.

Only an hour after they set off, the sky began to fill with purple-grey clouds, and it wasn't long before heavy rain began to fall. The horse seemed completely unaffected by the weather, but Alana was more than a little irritated by it. With a huff, she yanked up the hood of her cloak, and bowed her head in attempt to shield her face.

As the afternoon passed, they drew nearer to their destination. The mare was hesitant to follow Alana's request for her to slow down as they started to approach Henneth Annûn, the hidden settlement of the Ithilien Rangers. Still, when Alana gave her another firm prod, the horse finally stopped her eager gallop, transitioning to a more sedate pace.

The pathway up to Henneth Annûn was narrow, and her mare crept along it with care, her footing sure but slow. Alana allowed a smile to cross her lips as she looked around the familiar rocks and trees, the trickle of water much quieter here than it had been by the river, even with the heavy downpour.

At length, Alana reached one of the several entrances to the cave system that was Henneth Annûn, and dismounted from her horse. She gave her mount a gentle push in the direction they had come from, knowing she was now close enough to Minas Tirith that the journey would be easy enough to take on foot. She watched the mare go, before she turned and entered the cave.

As with all her other visits here, she was quickly surrounded by suspicious men who reacted instinctively by perceiving her to be a threat.

The leader approached her with a stern frown, his face covered by his hood. "It is forbidden for strangers to trespass in these lands. Who are you, and what do you want?"

Alana scoffed, raising her arms to lower her hood. Around her, the men tensed, but did not attack. Alana shook out her damp hair, then smiled at the man in front of her, whose eyes now shone with recognition. "Well," she said with a smile, "I suppose it is a good thing I'm not a stranger then, isn't it, Malhind?"

The Captain chuckled. "Lower your weapons," he ordered his men. "There is no danger here." With some showing hesitance, the Rangers did so, before moving away to continue with whatever they'd been doing before Alana's arrival. Malhind grinned and bowed to Alana, his hand over his heart. She copied the movement. "It's been a few years since our last encounter, my friend," he said, leading the way into the caves. Alana followed without hesitation.

"Well, I've been busy," Alana replied with a laugh.

Malhind smiled. "And how is the north these days?"

"As far as I know, it's fine," she answered. "It has been a long time since I was back there, though. Almost two years, in fact."

Malhind frowned. "Why the long absence?"

Alana smirked, feeling almost pleased to be able to say what she was about to. "I got married."

Eyebrows rising, Malhind said with a grin, "Congratulations, my Lady." He paused. "Though that doesn't really answer my question."

Laughing, Alana told him, "It does, actually. It explains everything."

"I don't follow, I'm afraid."

"Then you haven't been paying enough attention to the news of the world, Captain," said another man, whom Alana also knew.

Alana grinned. "Pleasure to see you again, Thandir."

He grinned. "And you as well, my Lady." He bowed, before a grin flickered into place. "Or is that no longer the appropriate form of address?"

Alana rolled her eyes. "You know as well as I that it's fine."

Beside them, Malhind was watching their interaction with blatant confusion. Thandir turned to his Captain, and announced with great flourish, "The Lady Alana is now better known as the new Queen Under the Mountain. Her husband is none other than Thorin Oakenshield himself."

Malhind's eyebrows more or less disappeared into his hairline. Then, he let out a low chuckle. "I suppose the reason for your absence from Eriador makes more sense now."

Laughing, Alana pointed out, "I _did_ tell you that my marriage had everything to do with that."

"Indeed you did." The Captain turned to Thandir and cocked an eyebrow. Making a show of great reluctance, Thandir turned and went back to his work. Rolling his eyes, Malhind returned his attention to Alana. "So, what is it that brings you this far south? Given your new station, I'd imagine it's official business."

Alana nodded. "The Steward invited Thorin and I down here for a visit, now that trade has picked up between our kingdoms. Thorin believes the Steward may also have a request to make; one which requires dwarven craftsmanship."

Malhind frowned. "But... you are alone. Did your husband not accompany you?"

"No, he did," Alana said, flushing slightly. "We, umm... had a quarrel a few days ago and so I... left. Travelled ahead."

Malhind chuckled. "And where are your group now?"

Alana mentally calculated the answer. "Probably about four days north of the Argonath, if they've made good progress."

Malhind blinked. "When was it that you parted ways with them?"

"Three days ago."

He stared at her for a long time, before slowly asking, "How did you manage to travel so far in so short a time? No horse would be able to travel that distance so fast."

Alana rubbed the back of her neck. "Well, it's a bit a long tale, but in short, I am in possession of something which can call members of the mearas to my aid. As you know, they can gallop much, much faster than an ordinary horse."

"You came here riding a mearas?" Malhind's tone had deadened completely, to one of near-disbelief.

Alana sighed, nodding. "Yeah, I did. She'll probably still be nearby, if you want proof. I only sent her away a few minutes ago."

The Captain shook his head. "No need, I believe you. Strange as it is." He sighed, before shaking his head in what was likely an attempt to clear it. He smiled at her again. "Now, I'd imagine it's been some time since you indulged in such things, so would you care for a drink, my Lady?"

Alana shook her head. "As much as I'd love to, I can't drink alcohol right now."

Malhind cocked an eyebrow. "You can't? That's a strange choice of words. Are you sure-?" He cut himself off, his lips and eyes thinning. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

Laughing, Alana teased, "Well, that would depend entirely on what you think I'm suggesting, wouldn't it? If you think I'm suggesting that I'm pregnant, you would be right. I am."

"You came all the way to Gondor from the Lonely Mountain, despite knowing you were pregnant?" There was a frown on his face again. "Are you sure that was the best idea?"

Rolling her eyes, Alana grumbled, "You're beginning to sound like my husband." She released a sigh through her nose, trying to rein in her impatience. "Dwarven pregnancies last twelve months," she explained. "It's a two month journey between Erebor and Minas Tirith. Even assuming we stay in Gondor for a whole month - which is quite unlikely - I'll still only be about seven months pregnant by the time we get home. That gives me a further five months before the baby arrives. I'll be fine. Besides, this is our first invitation to Gondor - I wasn't about to turn it down. How would that look?"

"Like you're an expecting mother," came the bland reply. "I'm sure the Steward would let you off."

Alana rolled her eyes again. "Now you're _really_ starting to sound like Thorin."

"Has it occurred to you that the King might be onto something?"

"Of course it has," Alana shot back. "But, let's be frank, I'm here now. There's not a lot of point in me turning around and going home anymore, is there?"

He sighed. "No, I suppose not. Just be careful."

"Seriously," Alana groaned, "I get enough of this from my husband. It's one of the reasons we got into our fight! Please stop."

Malhind held his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Alright, I won't say another word about it. Upon my honour. Just keep it in mind, okay? Keeping you in prime health has never been more important."

Alana glanced over at him. "Do you have any children?" she asked.

With a fond smile, Malhind nodded. "Aye, two so far. Two girls. We are... trying for a third, actually."

Alana bumped him with her shoulder, smiling. "Congratulations. Any preference for gender?"

"Well, considering I've got two daughters so far, a son would be nice," he said with a laugh. "Perhaps then I'll feel more comfortable about what I can teach him. Still, I wouldn't complain if we had another girl."

With a hint of a smirk on her lips, Alana teased, "Just think of all the hopeful suitors you're going to be beating off with a stick when they come of age."

Malhind rolled his eyes. "And what about you? Boy or girl?"

Alana shrugged. "Like you, I wouldn't complain either way. Thorin is ridiculously confident it's a boy, though. It must be said, the odds are in his favour - even taking my blood into account, the chances of a dwarven child being a boy is two out of three. So a boy is more likely." She chuckled. "I have to admit though, part of me wants it to be a girl, _just_ so he's proven wrong."

Chuckling, Malhind asked her, "Do you truly take such pleasure in that?"

"Are you kidding? I practically live for it."

Laughing again, Malhind shook his head, before apologetically informing her that he had to return to his duties. Alana waved him off, reminding him that she knew her way around the place at this point. He nodded, gave her a cordial bow, and then left her alone.

Alana made her way deeper into the caves, until she came across the centrepiece of Henneth Annûn - the Window-curtain. For many, this was the entrance to Henneth Annûn, but Alana herself had only entered by this way once. This route into the caves would certainly have been unsuitable for her horse.

The cavern in which she was standing was formed of a smoother stone than much of the rest of the cave system, and was taller and wider than the other pathways, too. Alana approached the Window-curtain with a hidden glee, marvelling at the sight of what many Gondorians considered to be the grandest of all waterfalls in the west. In the evening sunlight, the water glistened like fire, or like hundreds of tiny rubies. With a small smile on her face, Alana lifted her hand and let the water fall onto her palm. It was cold, but Alana didn't mind. Though she loved Erebor with all her heart, she nonetheless was grateful for this chance to reconnect with nature. The past month had passed without many chances to pause and admire the natural world around her, and in way, it felt nice to be back in the company of those who appreciated the world's wonders the same way that she did.

She removed her hand after it began to grow numb, then wiped it dry on her cloak. She looked around again at her surroundings, and found herself wondering how Thorin and the others were faring on their journey. She hoped they were all alright.

* * *

The last few days, they had travelled in absolute silence. No one dared to break it. After Alana's unexpected departure, there had been a distinct shift in the dynamic of their group. The previous light-heartedness just seemed to bleed out from each of them, as if Alana had been the main reason they had - so far - remained happy. Thorin's dour mood didn't help.

He didn't hold onto his anger for very long after Alana left; it was like he figured it wasn't worth the effort to do so anymore. Instead he became withdrawn and quiet, not even bothering to talk to Dwalin. A permanent black cloud floated over his head. Makaylen wasn't sure what exactly it was that caused him to look so downtrodden; whether it was Alana's absence or the fact that their last conversation had been a fight (probably a bit of both). No matter the cause, she sincerely hoped it wouldn't last, as it was having an adverse effect on the rest of them.

Still, they kept travelling on as if nothing had changed, though they all knew that it had. Makaylen had spent long enough with Alana by her side every day that her absence was not only strange, but left her feeling twitchy as well. Being the personal bodyguard of the Queen of Erebor was no small honour, and the fact that she couldn't now perform her duty left her feeling weird. Like she had somehow let Alana down. It wasn't that she hadn't offered to go with her - quite the opposite - but it was the fact that, despite knowing Alana was perfectly capable of looking after herself, Makaylen still worried. In her eyes, the Queen wasn't _just_ her Queen; she was her friend, too.

The group was startled out of whatever had consumed each of their thoughts by the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Though Makaylen instinctively reached for her weapon, Thorin raised a hand to stop her. Confused, Makaylen hesitantly lowered her hand, though she didn't dare relax completely.

Across the river, the western shore was bare of trees, though the land was hilly and so they couldn't see further than quarter of a mile or so beyond the river bank. As the thundering of horse hooves grew louder, a dark shadow appeared on the crest of one of the hills, and Makaylen's eyes widened as the shadow became gradually clearer. A party of no fewer than twelve horses were approaching the river, the leader of the group directing his followers towards the dwarves. The river was narrow at this point, it being one of its many meanders, and with the stone beach on the inside of the curve it was no more than five metres wide.

Despite muttered warnings from half of the group, Thorin separated from them and stood on the river bank. As the riders drew closer, their group mirrored this. While Thorin remained stood on the grass, the leader of the riders urged his horse towards the river, dismounting from his mount at the edge of the water. Then, with certain steps, he moved onto the stone beach on the other side.

The man before them - who was blatantly a member of King Fengel's éored, like all the men in his company - took off his helmet, and tucked it under his arm. His blonde hair was wild and windswept, and his beard was unkempt. There was dirt smattering his clothing and even his face, and his eyes were stern, but not unfriendly.

"Well met, travellers," the man said, though it was clear he was mainly addressing Thorin. "It has been many a year since we've had dwarves passing so close to our borders."

Thorin gave a noncommittal hum. "It has been far longer than all the years of your life since any dwarf last travelled this far west, I'm sure."

"I mean no disrespect, but I'm required to ask of your business in these lands, and to perceive whether you are a threat."

Thorin raised a hand without looking back, silencing Dwalin's retort before he had chance to voice it - Thorin knew his friend's defensiveness well, and knew that it was unnecessary in this instance. Still, he couldn't stop the amused quirk of his lips at the sound of Dwalin's disgruntled huff. "We are an envoy from Erebor, journeying to Minas Tirith at the invitation of the Steward."

One of the horses in the group behind the man stirred, and Thorin wondered vaguely if the group could hear him. The leader of the men cocked an eyebrow. "This is a dangerous route to be travelling, my Lord. There are many safer routes-"

"All of which take us many leagues further east than the one we now walk," Thorin cut in, narrowing his eyes as the horse he'd spotted moving earlier broke away from the group, approaching the river. "Our journey would be extended by weeks. The company that travels alongside me are all fine warriors. Whatever safety we would find on the longer routes was not worth losing precious time when we are as equipped as we are for facing dangers."

The curious horseman was now only feet behind his Captain, who turned his head with a frown. "What is it, Cenric?"

The form of this man was familiar, and his response made Thorin crack an amused smirk for the first time in days. "Forgive me, Captain, but I couldn't overlook this chance. I have met this fine dwarf before you see, though admittedly the last time we saw each other I ended up with a blade pointed at my throat." He grinned crookedly, dismounted, and then addressed Thorin directly. "A fine day to you, my Lord. I didn't think to see you again so soon."

"Nor I you," Thorin replied. "Alana will be sorry to have missed the chance to see you again, I'm sure."

Cenric hummed. "I was going to ask about her absence. 'Tis a shame, I was greatly anticipating our next meeting."

"She rode ahead of our party three days ago." Thorin paused for a moment. "Perhaps, if we are not otherwise pressed for time, we will be able to visit Rohan on our return journey. As long as our presence is not unwanted."

Grinning, Cenric told him, "Well, I for one would be delighted to welcome you back. I'm sure the King will also have no objections. Your lovely wife has become rather famous since my return from Erebor." He chuckled. "I made sure that the name Cwenhild became well-known."

Thorin was not unaware of the startled realisation in the Captain's eyes at this news. "I'm sure she will be glad to hear that," he said. He faced the Captain again, tilting his head to the side. "If you are satisfied with the answers we provided to your queries, we will be on our way."

Slowly, the Captain nodded. "All is well, my Lord," he assured them slowly. "We will not keep you any longer."

Thorin gave a vague nod, before he turned back to the others and they moved on without another word. They had walked no more than a few steps before the sounds of retreating horse hooves met their ears, and Thorin cast one last glance their way. They were riding back to the main group, and he knew it wouldn't be long before they were gone for good.

Satisfied, Thorin moved his eyes back to the path ahead, and he resolutely marched forward, the others following in his wake.


	37. A Day of Revelations

**A/N: I know, I know, it's been ages since my last post. Sorry. I'm working on trying to get ahead at this point, so I can reduce the delays (if that makes any sense at all), but in doing so I've neglected to post anything... Anywho, hopefully this chapter is enough to make up for the long wait**

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 **RainAstiel: Aww, I'm glad you liked it! I'm also glad you had a nice start to your weekend (like two weekends ago... but shhhhh...) ;)**

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* * *

 **'The past will often attack the present with the pain of your memories.' ~ Seiichi Kirima**

* * *

 **Chapter 37:**

"So," Makaylen piped up not long after the men of Rohan had disappeared from sight, "who in Mahal's name was that?"

Thorin glanced back at her. "That was one of the men who competed in the tournament in November. He and Alana struck up an alliance of sorts that day, and he lasted until the penultimate round."

Makaylen's eyebrows rose. "They knew each other for one day and they have _that_ level of friendship?"

Thorin cracked a small smile. "Despite what many may think, Alana cares little for her title - something I'm sure you have noticed by now." Makaylen hummed in agreement. "Cenric respected her as a warrior before he knew her as a Queen - which meant she knew he was being genuine. Besides, allegiances formed within the field of battle often form strong bonds of friendship very quickly. You are forced to rely on the other to have your back, and they rely on you to have theirs. The moment you do that, you are placing your life in their hands. A sign of such trust will often lead to a great friendship, if said allies ever cross paths outside of battle." He glanced back at the thoughtful dam. "In fact, that is how Alana and I met."

Makaylen blinked. "I always thought you met when she arrived at the hobbit's house."

Thorin shook his head. "It is a reasonable assumption to make, but no, we met a single time before that. Alana had apparently been tracking an orc pack for hours, and caught up with them near Bree, a town of men. The orcs, however, were hunting _me_. Her fast reactions saved me from being caught in an ambush. It wasn't a long battle, by any means, but we fought together nonetheless, and it formed the first bonds of trust between us."

Makaylen was thoughtful for a moment, before hesitantly asking, "When was it... exactly... that you, um..." She sighed, then asked more confidently, "When was it that you fell in love with her?" Thorin's eyebrows rose sharply, and when he looked at the dwarrowdam he noticed her cheeks were a darker shade of pink than normal. "I asked Kili the same question, when Alana was in the healing house after the incident with her fire." Thorin's expression darkened at the reminder of that time, so Makaylen hastened to finish her explanation. "He told me what he thought, but I don't think he was really sure."

Thorin didn't answer immediately. He was slightly surprised by the dam's question; though he knew how close she and Alana had become, he himself didn't know her all that well yet. To have her ask him something as personal as that surprised him more than a little. He realised that Makaylen would likely become a very permanent part of his life - being the personal guard of his wife meant that he'd be seeing a lot more of her than he saw now. Dwalin had been his guard for a time, and Thorin could say without a doubt that the gruff dwarf was his best friend. Alana and Dwalin had also grown close over the many weeks and months that they had known each other. Perhaps, in time, he would come to see Makaylen in a similar light. It was a strange thought, though not one he was entirely averse to.

At length, he answered her. "I know when I realised what I felt was love," he began slowly. "But pinpointing the moment it actually happened is... somewhat more difficult. It wasn't like it is in a lot of stories - it didn't suddenly strike with all the strength of a lightning bolt. On the contrary, it snuck up on me so slowly that I didn't notice its presence until it had made a comfortable home for itself within me." He chuckled. "Back then, we could argue about the smallest of things. I was as likely to be infuriated by her as I was to act as if we'd never had an ill moment pass between us."

Dwalin huffed out a short laugh from behind them, and Thorin glanced back at his friend with a raised eyebrow. "From where I was standing," the gruff dwarf said, "it looked like you enjoyed the storms as much as the calms in between."

Thorin's eyebrows rose. "Where did you pick up _that_ impression?"

Scoffing, Dwalin raised an eyebrow. "I've known you you're entire life. If you had been truly bothered by your arguments, you'd have found some way of kicking her out of the company before we got even halfway to Rivendell. She challenged you openly, but you and I both know it was never done out of disrespect. On the contrary, I think she challenged you because she was loyal to you, and she thought you were endangering yourself (or the rest of us). And, as I'm sure you yourself realised, most of the time she was right to think that."

Thorin released a quiet chuckle, nodding. "Aye, that she was. Unfortunately for me, _she_ also knows that, and now she never lets me forget it." He turned back to Makaylen. "So, to answer your question, I think there was a small part of me which loved her very early on. On the night that we met Master Baggins, she confided in me her biggest secret, one that could bring ruin to more than just herself. She entrusted that information to me before she truly knew me. In all my years, I have never met anyone else who would dare to do such a thing." He hummed. "Then later, as we got to know one another, I realised we had far more in common than had appeared at first glance."

Makaylen huffed out a laugh. "Which must say a lot, because at first glance, you look pretty similar. Both with black hair and blue eyes."

Thorin let the right side of his mouth crook up. "That's very true. But in truth, if there was any definite time I would fall in love with her, it would likely be in Goblin Town."

"Goblin Town?!"

Thorin hummed to himself, his eyes darkening at the memory. "By that point I had already shared with her a secret of my own, one that I had not at that point shared with any other. I knew her to be trustworthy, and I knew her to be brave (often to the point of recklessness, as I'm sure you've learned by now). By that point she was most certainly a dear friend, even if I did not tell her this. Then in Goblin Town, she willingly stepped forward to save a friend from torture. We could hear every moment of what she endured, and until the end, she let out neither words nor cries. It was then that I realised Alana possessed a strength that only few of those who have walked this Middle Earth have been gifted. Her loyalty to us nearly killed her." He nodded, almost to himself. "Yes," he finished, "I think if there was any single moment that could be the one I finally fell for her, that would be it."

* * *

Osgiliath must have been a truly magnificent city at one point. With tall spires and great buildings of white stone, and the towering, domed palace of Rond Giliath, it must once have been a source of great pride for the men of Gondor. Now, with the many battles for territory having taken place within its borders, the city looked tired and beaten. The western half of the city had almost always been held by the armies of Gondor, stopping any attempts by their various enemies to reach the kingdom of men, but eastern half was in constant contention - and these days, it was not Gondor who claimed it as part of her lands.

Luckily, there were ways to reach the western bank of the Anduin near Cair Andros, and Alana made easy progress through those lands. At the insistence of Malhind, Thandir accompanied her in her travels. She did not protest against his presence, though she was well aware of the reason for Malhind's orders. After what had happened with the wargs and with Thorin, she decided it was better for her to keep her protests silent and simply accept the aid offered to her.

They stopped only briefly in the crumbled city of old, Thandir's brother being one of the soldiers guarding the western half of the city. Thandir had requested they not head directly to Minas Tirith, so as to give him time to visit said brother. Alana needed no persuasion, though he did insist it was only because they hadn't seen each other for over three months.

The duo got more than a few curious looks as they traipsed through the streets of Osgiliath, though it was likely more to do with Alana's presence than Thandir's. The Rangers of the north visited this part of the world so rarely that many were beginning to believe them a mere myth, or at the very least that they had died out some time ago. Perhaps they were merely surprised to see a woman armed with both sword and bow walking among them.

Thandir's brother was more sturdily built than him, with broad shoulders and a stern jaw. Thandir's strength was more subtle, and his slighter frame was no doubt a benefit to him when he and his fellow Rangers were wandering Ithilien. The two embraced shortly when they met, and Alana stood a little to the side, giving them a few moments' privacy.

Presently, she noticed she was being approached by one of the other guards. He had a smile already set on his face. "It's been a while since we've had one of the northern Rangers visit this city. What brings you here, my lady?"

She gave a small smile. "I am not here on Ranger business this time, and neither shall I stay long. Thandir wanted to visit his brother. We will be heading for Minas Tirith as soon as he is done."

The soldier likely noticed that she didn't directly answer his question, but he didn't seem suspicious of her. Her arrival alongside one of their own likely helped with that. "Have you visited the White City before, Lady Ranger?"

"Yes, though only once. It is a very grand city, and back then I must admit I found its size rather intimidating."

The soldier raised an eyebrow. "And now?"

Alana chuckled. "Well, I've spent the last year or more living in a place that is around the same sort of scale. Though the environment will likely have some rather glaring differences, I'm sure I'll be far more comfortable in Minas Tirith than I was last time."

Before the soldier could reply, Thandir reappeared by Alana's side. "Come now, Nikulas, give her some peace. The Lady Alana has travelled a long way to get here, and she doesn't need to spend time fending off your pathetic attempts at flirting."

Nikulas cocked an eyebrow. "Do you really think I cannot simply be being polite to a traveller?"

"No, I really don't," came the snarky response, though Thandir was grinning. "Save your efforts for someone whom you might _actually_ have a chance with."

Alana watched in amusement as Nikulas brought himself up to his full height, allowing him to tower a good four inches above Thandir. "Now, see here, you little-"

"That was not a jab against you," Thandir said with a roll of his eyes. "But the Lady is happily married, and to someone whom you'd sincerely regret going up against, believe you me." He patted Nikulas on the shoulder. "Best you accept this as a battle lost, my friend, before you find yourself in waters too deep for you to get out of again." Nikulas huffed, turned on his heels, and then stomped away without so much as a backwards glance. Thandir grinned at Alana. "Shall we be off, then, my lady?"

With an expression of bemusement, Alana asked him, "Did that really just happen?"

Thandir chuckled. "Aye, Nikulas is known amongst the guards to be painfully persistent when it comes to women. He may not have started sweet talking you by the time I got here, but it wouldn't have taken him long, trust me." He glanced back at her, noticing her expression was still rather bewildered. Thandir grinned again, though there was genuine concern in his voice as he asked, "Are you alright, Lady Alana?"

Alana blinked and shook her head. "Fine," she assured him. "I'm just very unfamiliar with men trying to flirt with me. I'm not sure I'd realise what was going on until far too late."

"Really?" Thandir asked in surprise. "That surprises me."

Tilting her head to the side, Alana stated pointedly, "It shouldn't. I lived in a very small village growing up, and was not yet of age when I was forced to leave it. I then spent the next few years living alongside elves. After that, I was alone in the wild. The Rangers in Eriador are treated with fear and suspicion, so no one ever really wanted to get close. Following that, I became part of a company of dwarves, whose beliefs about women mean that flirting just... doesn't really happen. At least not in a casual sense." She shrugged. "Hence why I have no experience with dealing with that kind of behaviour."

Thandir glanced at her, expression two parts sympathetic, one part amused. "Well, my lady, I have a feeling that - once you step into Minas Tirith - you may have to get used to it. You're a fair woman, and while most men don't believe in the benefits of becoming a... what's the phrase? Ladies' man? ... there will nonetheless always be those few who are either confident enough or arrogant enough to try their luck."

Alana huffed. "You'd think this would be enough to ward them away." She lifted her left hand, showing the finely crafted gold band on her left ring finger.

Thandir shrugged. "That's where the arrogance comes in. The really brazen ones will approach you regardless. Some of the more honourable ones will leave you alone if they notice the ring. Nikulas back there being one of them. He's a flirt, yes, but if he'd known you were married from the start, he likely wouldn't have tried to woo you."

Laughing softly, Alana pointed out, "He _didn't_ try to 'woo' me, as you put it. He'd barely spoken three sentences before you swooped in."

Thandir shook his head. "I think you might have missed the point there, my lady."

Alana sighed. "No, I understand what you're trying to say. Thanks for the heads-up, I guess."

Thandir looked at her for a long time, before humming. "Remind me to introduce you to Nivari when we get to the city. She's got some experience with over-eager potential suitors, and knows how to deal with them. I get the feeling you might need some advice."

"You're making it sound like I'm going to be accosted every time I turn a corner," Alana noted dryly.

Thandir shrugged. "You probably won't, but there's no harm in being prepared. I'm sure you know the saying: 'It's better to have it but not need it, than need it and not have it'."

Alana nodded. "I suppose you're right. I just sincerely hope you're blowing things way out of proportion."

* * *

In recent weeks, Kili had taken to spending increasing amounts of time in the training area, either helping those he had started teaching, or simply enhancing his own skills. It was the only thing he could think to do to stem his boredom. He understood that Fili had more duties now, given that he was fulfilling all of his own, plus all of Thorin's work, but that didn't stop him from mourning the loss of his brother during the daylight hours. There was no longer any time for them to wander the markets, or travel to Dale. They only managed to eat their dinners together half of the time.

He was proud of Fili. Really, he was. He more than anyone knew how great a King his older brother would one day be. But that didn't stop Kili from missing him. It didn't stop him longing for days long in the past, where they had no worries or responsibilities to take up their time and attention.

With a deep sigh, Kili stopped his relentless attack on one of the many training dummies that had been set up in the training yard. The wooden pole holding up the straw-stuffed figure was creaking and groaning, bearing many scratches from Kili's attacks. The majority of the dummy was on the floor, leaving a mess of straw and scraps of material that Kili knew he'd have to clean up sooner or later.

A familiar voice drew his attention to the doorway across the room. "Your actions alone are going to drain the city's gold stores," his mother stated dryly. "How many of those training dummies have been replaced in the last month? Twenty?"

Kili rolled his eyes. "If it wasn't me, it'd have just been someone else," he grumbled in response.

"What's wrong, _**gehyith**_? I haven't seen you this restless in years."

Kili heaved out a sigh. "I'm fine," he said at length. "Just... having trouble adapting to things recently."

"You mean Fili's duties?"

Slowly, he nodded. "It's not just Fili, though, _**amad**_. With Thorin and Alana and Kayla away from the mountain, it seems like suddenly there's no one here." He shook his head. "I struggle to find things to fill the day, sometimes."

Dís was quiet for a moment. "Fili is thinking of travelling to Mirkwood in a few days," she told him, and Kili raised his head in surprise. "King Thranduil sent an invitation to Erebor. He was going to ask you to rule in his stead while he was gone, but I feel that you would be better suited to travel with him."

"Is this wise, mother? Thorin and Alana are half a world away at this point, and with Fili and I gone, too-"

"I managed to look after Ered Luin well enough when you went off on that Mahal-forsaken quest to reclaim this place," Dís cut in with a pointed expression. "Erebor will manage fine. It will only be for a week or two, and I will have Balin at my side, if needs be. Not to mention the other councilmen."

Kili scoffed. "Half of whom I find it very difficult to trust," he muttered. He then piped up again before his mother could comment. "How's Bofur handling the new workload?"

"Well, he's only had to attend two meetings so far, but he's done well enough." Dís frowned. "As you could expect, not all the of councillors were... happy with the decision to have him take Boitu's place, but he's proven himself rather insightful. Bofur is and will always be a people person - he is friendly to all so long as they are friendly to him. He knows a lot of people very well, and so knows what they want."

Kili nodded. "I'm glad he's taken to it. I was rather surprised when he volunteered."

"Like I said, he knows the people better than most. He was in a position to make sure their desires were - at the very least - heard and known by the councilmen. That, and he has a calmer temper than most dwarves."

Kili snorted. "I think he will need it," he grumbled, thinking of the few councils he'd been asked (or rather, forced, as he saw it) to sit in on.

Humming, Dís then said, "There was actually a reason for me to come down here."

"Something tells me it was not simply for the pleasure of my company."

Chuckling, she admitted, "Not this time, I'm afraid. No, it is a more serious matter than that." Kili raised his eyebrows in question, prompting his mother to continue. "Nori finally thinks he has made some headway on the matter concerning Lord Boitu's claims."

Kili frowned. "Which claims?"

"The claim that he was not the one to attack Alana in the first place."

"You mean the fire?"

Dís nodded. "Indeed. There has been little to no evidence to follow up on that, save the little orange gem he found on the day it happened."

Kili's eyes widened. "Does he think he found the culprit?"

"Not yet," Dís admitted, causing Kili's spirits to dampen. "But he's found a potential lead. Nori spotted the dress that the gem came from yesterday afternoon; it was for sale in a second-hand clothing stall in the market. There may be a chance we can find a way to locate the owner."

Kili frowned. "I don't understand. It's been nearly a year since the attack. Why would it suddenly show up now?"

"Perhaps they believed we had forgotten about it," his mother murmured, brows creasing. "Whatever their reasoning, we should be grateful it has appeared. It will bring us one step closer to finding Alana's attacker."

Kili nodded, a solemn expression on his face. "Let's hope they don't realise we may be on to them."

Dis frowned. "Why do you say that?"

With a cocked eyebrow, the younger dwarf stated pointedly, "What does a bear do when backed into a corner? It lashes out."

"You think the attacker may make a second attempt? Alana is, as you said, half a world away."

With a long sigh, Kili pointed out, "Right now, Alana is not the threat. If a second attack comes, it will likely be on one of us, because we are the ones trying to pin them down."

Dís let out a long, weary sigh. "I hope you're wrong, Kili."

Kili sighed. "It's just a theory," he said at length. "For now, we should focus on tracking them down. And as secretly as possible, I think, lest we trigger that which we fear most."


	38. The Steward of Gondor

**A/N: This story now has the same number of chapters as the first part did...! Eek! Anyways, I apologise for yet another late update, but hopefully the chapter will be good enough for said wait to be worthwhile. Also, PS: I just wanted to explain that, basically, I couldn't find a khuzdul version of 'Minas Tirith' anywhere so I kinda sorta had to go and make it up. 'Ashmar Zarakh' is used later by Dwalin, and means Guardian Tower. I figured this was good enough, since 'Minas Tirith' means Tower of the Guard. There may be a few more city names popping up, too - which I will have also semi-created for this story. :) PPS: The story behind the Argonath is different in book-canon and movie-canon, so I've kind of mixed the two... Anyway... Onwards!**

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 **ro781727: True, but there's some plot development in other places, so I'm gonna have to jump back sometimes**

 **RainAstiel: Yeah, that's probably what I'd do if I met them... Got to imagine they'd be pretty good teachers... XP Thanks for the kind words, as always!**

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 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Haha, I'll think about it... ;)**

* * *

 **'Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.' ~ George Bernard Shaw**

* * *

 **Chapter 38:**

Upon arriving in Minas Tirith, Alana learned that Thandir was, indeed, exaggerating about the flirtatious nature of the men in the city. They walked through the levels without being stopped, though Thandir was greeted by several people along the way. Many curious eyes followed the duo as they passed, likely unused to seeing a woman in the garb of a Ranger, and a Ranger of the north no less. Alana was used to such looks, so was unbothered by them, and was grateful that simple curiosity was the only response she seemed to get.

"Usually the Steward would not accept an audience with anyone without them first being invited," Thandir said as they passed through the gate that stood at the entrance to the sixth level of the city. "But I think for you he would make an exception."

Alana chuckled. "Ah, but you forget; I was invited."

"True, but remember you are not expected for another month," Thandir reminded her with a crooked grin. "And I certainly doubt he would have anticipated you riding ahead of your husband."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think anyone expected that."

"Then you understand my point...?"

Alana chuckled. "Yes, Thandir, I understand your point. If I have to wait for an audience with the Steward, then so be it. It's of little consequence to me."

Thandir nodded. "So," he said at length, "answer something for me, if you could..." Alana cocked an eyebrow, wordlessly telling him to continue. "You've been married for how long now?"

Alana blinked. "Oh, umm... Since last July, so around nine months. Why?"

"Just curious," Thandir said with a shrug, though there was a twitch to the corner of his lips that gave away the fact his words were not quite honest. "And the baby, was it... intended...?"

Alana sent a deadpan look his way. "Is that really any of your business?"

Shrugging, and apparently unashamed by his curiosity, Thandir replied, "Not really, but you can't blame me for wanting to know."

Alana rolled her eyes, before grudgingly answering his question. "It was neither intended nor not. Thorin and I have no real need to have children, but it wasn't like we were taking any preventative measures to minimise the chance."

Thandir nodded slowly. "And... is your child going to become the next ruler?"

Alana shook her head. "No, Thorin's nephew is his heir, and that's how it will remain. We will ask that he passes the throne down to our child if we have a son, but honestly, it's his decision at that point. I don't think either of us would hold it against him if he wants to pass the throne to his own children."

They had reached the top level at this point, their path opening up onto the impressive, white courtyard set before the main citadel. Alana's eyes automatically sought out the dead, dry remains of the white tree of Gondor. She was aware of the guards eyeing her closely as she approached it, pressing her hand against the rough bark. It saddened her that this symbol of the Gondor of old was in such a state, but nonetheless still held hope that she might live to see it flower again.

She moved away from the tree and headed towards the citadel doors, which were made of darkened, aged wood. Alana was mildly surprised to see their were no guards standing by the doors, but figured that - when no one made a move to stop her - she wasn't breaking any rules by entering. Aware of Thandir standing a few feet behind her, Alana knocked on the door.

There was a moment of stillness, before the door let out a deep, loud groan, and began to open. She tilted her head in silent thanks to the guards who had opened the doors for her, moving into the palace building. She had never been here before, and couldn't help but let her eyes sweep over the features of the room.

It was darker than she'd anticipated. The great, black pillars holding up the room and the black details on the arches made it seem too dark and intimidating, and what little light filtered in through the windows seemed to only make the contrast between the pillars and white stone of the floor more stark. Still, the tall ceiling and the golden pattern in the hemisphere above the throne gave the room an undeniable sense of awe-inspiring grandeur.

The King's throne was raised, a set of steps leading up to it. At the base of the stairs, and to the left, was a smaller throne. Sat upon it with a piece of parchment in his hand was the Steward, Turgon. He was very old by the standards of men, but the House of Stewards had the blood of Númenor in their veins, and many were known to live long past a hundred years old. Still, he was showing signs of his age; his hair was completely greyed, and his skin was wrinkled. He still held himself with strength, however - a strength that belied the frailty of his body.

His eyes were neither warm nor cold as they watched Alana approach, Thandir having stopped by the door. "Not many would enter this hall without invite," the Steward said at length. "Fewer still would do so without a hint of fear or caution." A small smile flickered onto his face. "You wear the garb of a Ranger, though not one of my own. I welcome you, my Lady."

Alana bowed her head low, a smile that mirrored that of the Steward forming on her lips. "Thank you, my Lord. I hope you will forgive my intrusion."

Lord Turgon waved a dismissive hand. "Of course, of course. I have little else to do today but look at paperwork, and such a thing can become quite tedious over time."

"Don't I know it," Alana grumbled, causing the Steward to raise an eyebrow in silent question. Alana smiled again. "Apologies for my forwardness, but you did, in fact, invite me here. Only... you and I have not met before, and you expected me to be accompanied by a party of dwarves who are due to arrive in a little under a month."

Blinking, Lord Turgon eyed her for a moment, before realisation spread across his features. "...Queen Alana?" he asked, voice carrying little certainty.

With another bow, Alana replied, "At your service." Her grin was broader this time.

Turgon settled deeper into his chair, his expression suddenly unreadable. "You're right that I didn't expect to see you so soon," he noted blithely. "What caused you to leave the safety of your group?"

Alana had to bite back her sneer at the obvious implication that Turgon believed she needed to be looked after, reminding herself that these men had different views and values than the ones she had grown up alongside. "We encountered some wargs by the banks of the Anduin," she said, deciding to bend the truth a little. "We were without horses or ponies, and given my condition, Thorin thought it best that I travel ahead on the off-chance that the group have another encounter."

Turgon frowned. "Your condition?" he repeated curiously.

"I am with child, my Lord."

His eyebrows raked up. "With child?" he repeated, causing Alana to nod. "Congratulations, my Lady." Turgon bowed his head slightly, and Alana mirrored him. "I am surprised - though not displeased - that you decided to make the long journey here with such a prize under your heart." He smiled. "And when might the world expect the little one to be born?"

Alana tilted her head to the side. "Nine months or so," she replied. "Then again, it could be closer to six months. Thorin and I are unsure exactly how this pregnancy will go - whether it will be more similar to those of dwarves, or those of men."

Turgon smiled. "I'm sure you will be a wonderful mother, my Lady." He picked up his pieces of paper, gathered them into a pile, and then stood. "Come," he said at length, "let me give you a tour of the palace."

"Are you sure I am not interrupting you, my Lord?"

Turgon shook his head, chuckling lightly. "No, no, not at all. I have little to do of importance today, and ensuring your comfort is certainly a priority." He nodded to Thandir in the corner, silently dismissing him, and the Ranger disappeared out the door with a smile of farewell to Alana.

Alana accepted the escorting arm that Lord Turgon offered, and the two left the main hall of the palace together.

* * *

Thorin had been to Minas Tirith before, but never by this road. He'd heard of the wonders of the Argonath, of the tall stone statues that stood guard over the old borders of Gondor, but had never seen them before. To say they were a marvel would be an understatement. They towered a hundred metres above the river, two imposing guards that acted both as a warning and a deterrent to invading forces. Even where he was standing, on top of the sheer cliff on the eastern side of the river, the giant statue of Isildur rose high above his head.

Thorin didn't often feel particularly impressed with the craftsmanship of men, but he would openly admit that the Argonath could rival the best of dwarven stonework.

He became aware of a body next to him, and he tilted his head to the side to see Nyr there. He liked the guard well enough, though he had a feeling Alana had a better understanding of him. Nyr's guard shift was parallel with when Thorin was usually busy, whereas it would be the time that Alana would be making her way back to the royal quarter, so she had greater opportunity to talk to him. Whether the term 'friends' was appropriate for them yet, he wasn't sure, but he was nonetheless glad that Nyr seemed to appreciate Alana's kindness and respond in turn.

"Who are they?" Nyr asked him, clearly referring to the Argonath.

Thorin hummed. "Well, there's some debate. The one closest to us is, by all accounts, Isildur, the second High King of the Two Kingdoms. The statue furthest from us, however, is not so certain. Some claim it depicts Anárion, Isildur's younger brother. Others think it was built in the likeness of Elendil, Isildur's father." He hummed. "I suppose somewhere in Minas Tirith, there will be records of it, and the truth can be found there. Perhaps it was built in one way, but later changed." He gave a quiet chuckle. "That's the problem with history," he said, causing Nyr to shoot him a querying look. "You can never be _completely_ certain of its accuracy."

"Do you ever wonder how you are going to be remembered?" Nyr asked, and Thorin blinked.

"I haven't thought about it, to be honest," he admitted. He paused for a moment, thoughtful. "I suppose I would like to be remembered in a positive way, but that is likely the same as anyone. When I am gone, I will not care how the world think on my deeds in life, and their views do not change the present. The only thing that matters to me is the here and now. I can only do that which I feel to be right at the time - I don't have time to worry whether future generations will see my actions in the same way that I do."

Nyr smiled. "I suppose that is one thing; you are the King of Durin's folk, and whether for good or ill, you will always be remembered. There's no such guarantee for the rest of us."

"Perhaps that is more of a blessing than you realise," Thorin said, tone serious. Then he blinked, cleared his thoughts, and clapped the guardsman on the shoulder. "Come," he said, raising his voice so the others could hear him. "We have idled here too long. With luck, we will reach the Amon Lhaw by nightfall. We make the descent past the falls in the morning."

The group moved on swiftly at Thorin's word, marching through the rough terrain with ease. They stuck close to the lake, as much as was possible, making their way down from the clifftops to walk on the stony shores on the lakeside. The darkness was setting in faster than Thorin had hoped - the hills to the west blocking much of the evening sunlight. They were a few miles north of Amon Lhaw's Seat of Hearing when Thorin called for them to halt, the late hour causing more than one grumbling stomach amongst their group.

They set up camp quickly, lighting a fire and getting some food roasting before they began to set out their bed rolls. While the others gathered around the fire, waiting impatiently for the food to be cooked, Thorin removed himself from the group. He made his way to the water's edge, standing with the ends of his boots a bare inch from the waterline. The Argonath couldn't be seen anymore, the sky too dark, but he could hear the rush of the Falls of Rauros to his left - a constant rumbling sound that was pleasantly calming.

His thoughts drifted away from his surroundings, and as they did a frown settled onto his face. Alana had been gone for a week now, and he was sure that she must have reached Minas Tirith at this point. He wondered what her welcome had been - had the Steward treated her as an honoured guest, as he should have done? Or had he turned her away, refusing to see her on the belief that she was just some common woman seeking his attention? He hoped it was the former, but he wasn't sure how far the Steward's hospitality would spread, given that it would still be half a month before the rest of them arrived in the city of men.

A throaty cawing caught his attention, and he looked up into the gloom. His eyes only barely managed to spot the movement of the raven above his head, and he lifted his arm in an invitation for it to land there. There was a letter tied to its leg - a reply from Fili, no doubt - and it stood still as he carefully untied it.

"You have done well, my friend," he told the raven, which tilted its head to him. "Rest for tonight. You have earned that much. But return in the morning, if you would. I should have something for you to return with by then." The raven let out a quick caw of what Thorin perceived to be agreement, before flapping its wings and disappearing into the gloom once more.

Thorin returned to the camp, the smell of cooking meat making his mouth water. Dwalin raised his eyebrows when he saw the letter in Thorin's hands, before turning back to his conversation with Makaylen. Thorin watched the two interact for a moment. He knew his friend respected the dam - she was a fast learner, and was always eager to keep going, to push herself right to her limit. "Not like those lazy, good-for-nothing nephews of yours," Dwalin had added once, though his tone had been fond. Dwalin always left a special place in his heart for the dwarves he trained. He got to know each of them individually, recognised both strengths and weaknesses within them. Thorin wasn't sure whether his fried was aware of it, but Dwalin always looked like a proud father when one of his students did well; Kili and Fili included. Given that the dwarf had stated in no uncertain terms that he no intention of taking a wife, or having kids, the friends he made from those he trained were the closest thing to family he could - and probably would - ever get. He wondered if Makaylen had realised that yet.

Seating himself by his pack, Thorin untied the letter he'd been sent and used to orange light of the fire to read it.

 _Uncle,_

 _I hope you are all still in good health, although I'm sorry to hear about what happened with Alana. I'm sure you know this already, but she will undoubtedly be safer in Minas Tirith - away from people she can recklessly risk her own life to save. I don't know for sure when this will reach you, though by reckoning she should be in Minas Tirith by the time you read this, and I'd imagine you are somewhere near Nen Hithoel. You will have to tell us when you return if the Argonath live up to their legend._

 _King Thranduil sent an invitation out to us a few days ago. He wants to meet us in Mirkwood - well, he wants to meet me, but mother is insisting that I take Kili with me to keep him from going insane from boredom (her words, not mine). We are to leave in two days. It will be interesting to see Mirkwood again, though I hope this time we will avoid the dungeons._

 _I admit, what I am going to tell you next is not something I wish to inform you of through a letter. I wish you were here to hear it from me directly, but needs must, I suppose. No doubt you remember the little gem that Nori found in Alana's room after someone tried to kill her. Well, the other day, he spotted the dress that the gem belonged to, hanging up in a market store. As I write this, he's trying to track down the owner, though from what I can tell it's something of a long trail. The dress has been sold and bought several times in the last few months, so finding who possessed it last year is proving tricky. Still, I know he'll keep looking into it. I'll do my best to keep you informed of any findings._

 _Your nephew,  
_ _Fili_

 _P.S. Did I tell you before that Kili's beard is finally starting to grow out? Because I'm beginning to worry it'll be thicker than mine by the time you make it back home._

Thorin released a long sigh, running his hands down his face. As was often the case these days, Fili's letter left him with very mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was glad that Thranduil was still making an effort to maintain their rocky alliance, and that Fili was willing to do the same. He was also glad that they were finally back on the trail of the woman who had attacked Alana so many months ago. But he was also conflicted. A small part of him had hoped that the whole mess had been put behind them. It was true that no one had been brought to justice, but Alana had regained her strength in the end, with no long-lasting problems. But there was no avoiding it this time; they finally had a thread to pull on, and he wanted the attacker found. He wondered how long it would take to find her. He wondered whether he'd be returning home to find the dam still hidden, or if she'd be rotting away in the dungeons of the mountain, awaiting the punishment he decided her actions warranted.

"Bad news?" Dwalin asked, seating himself beside his King and handing him a plate of steaming meat. Thorin wordlessly passed Dwalin the letter, letting him read through it. By the end, his friend was looking just as conflicted as he felt. At length, the warrior released a long sigh. "Do you think we should tell her?"

Thorin didn't have to ask to know who he was talking about. It was a question he hadn't really thought to consider. "I don't know," he admitted. "If we tell her, it could cause her undue stress or worry, which may be dangerous given her pregnancy. But, on the other hand-"

"This bastard made an attempt on her life and she deserves to know," Dwalin finished, Thorin nodding along. "Well, at least you don't have to make the decision now. We've still a couple weeks to go before we reach Ashmar Zarakh. Just be sure to let me know once you decide."

Thorin nodded again. "I will." Then, a smile twitched onto his face. "Did you read the last bit?"

Chuckling, Dwalin nodded. "Aye, that I did. It's about time Kili got some hair on 'im. Not sure I agree that Fili has to worry about him being overtaken, though."

Humming, Thorin tilted his head to the side. "Do you remember when Kili started having his first growth spurts?"

"Oh, aye. Lad started growing as fast as a weed."

"Whereas Fili's growth was slower, and over a greater amount of time," Thorin reminded him. "Perhaps this will be similar."

Dwalin chuckled. "Well, if that's the case, maybe Fili _does_ have cause for concern. After all, if his little brother is taller than him..."

Thorin smiled along with him, finally turning his attention to his food and ripping into the meat. "I wonder how the trip to Mirkwood will turn out."

Dwalin shrugged. "They both seem amiable enough last time 'round." Thorin shot him a perplexed look, and the dwarf laughed again. "Well, Kili spent a fair amount of time talking to that elven lass, Tauriel. Not sure I'd go so far as to call them friends, but they seemed to get on alright. And Fili spent some time talking to the elven Prince, since he was the one to deliver Alana's letters from your sister. Again, I don't think they're close, but I think Fili respects him, if nothing else."

"Prince Legolas is wandering the wild at present, as far as I know," Thorin told his friend, pulling off another piece of meat. "And neither has yet gone face-to-face with Thranduil in a... diplomatic environment."

Dwalin made a show of rolling his eyes. "They'll be fine, Thorin," he said with surety. "Probably better than you would in their shoes." Once again, Thorin raised his eyebrows. "Well," Dwalin reminded him pointedly, "they don't have the centuries-old hatred of him that you do."

Thorin nodded at that, silently agreeing. Though to call it hatred was not so accurate anymore - he could be civil with Thranduil, and he could often see the benefits of their allegiance with one another unfolding before his eyes. Still, he often delegated the task greeting and dealing with the elf King to Alana, as standing in Thranduil's mere presence still caused his hackles to instinctively raise. _Baby steps_ , Alana's voice suddenly piped up, and he knew she was right.

"I miss them," Thorin admitted quietly, gaze aimed towards the fire, though he wasn't unaware of the way Dwalin's head was tilted in his direction. "I know they have their duties, same as the rest of us, but... I wish they were here."

Dwalin clapped Thorin in the shoulder, his King finally turning to meet his eyes. "I know you do, lad," the warrior said softly. "I do, too. So does Alana, I'm sure. But the quicker we get this done, the quicker we can go back to them, and you'll have all the time in the world to make up for this time lost."

Thorin nodded, raising his own arm and placing his hand on Dwalin's shoulder, giving it a quick, firm squeeze. "Thank you, my friend. I am glad to have you here."

Dwalin grinned crookedly. "I'd rather be nowhere else. Even if you are a grumpy ass sometimes."

That was the first time in several days that the group heard a genuine bark of laughter leave Thorin's lips.


	39. Many Meetings

**A/N: Sorry it's been a while, but I've spent the last god-knows how long preparing for going to uni. Just moved into my flat today. So I've been kinda busy. Actually got this finished a couple days ago, but haven't had time to post it. Hopefully you all like it - more characters to introduce this time :)**

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 **Review Response(s):**

 **JollyRoger1: Thanks, as always! :)**

 **ro781727: I feel like the mention of Ecthelion kind of makes sense, since Turgon is getting older and Ecthelion is old enough to be a significant enough presence. Or something... XP Then again, maybe it was just Peter Jackson being Peter Jackson-y and using names people would be more familiar with**

 **RainAstiel: Ah man, Minas Tirith looks so awesome. I'd love to visit there (you know, if it was a real place). You'll have to wait on the investigation, though - it probably won't show up again for a little while yet.**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Well, funny you should mention her... ;)**

* * *

 **'Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.' ~ Anais Nin**

* * *

 **Chapter 39:**

Alana had been in Minas Tirith for ten days, and though she had her every whim and desire attended to, it didn't stop her from being bored out of her mind. Strangely, during her second day of rest, her morning sickness had returned with a vengeance. Every morning since had found her in the large bathroom that adjoined her room, her head bowed over the basin, throwing up last night's dinner. She didn't really understand it - maybe the act of always being on the move had been enough to keep her stomach settled. Maybe it had something to do with her diet. Either way, she was far from thrilled with the sudden change.

Unpleasant waking routine aside, her days were relatively uneventful. She was grateful for the easy access to sweet foods, and every meal would include a fruit pie or a fresh cake for dessert - courtesy of the friendly, understanding chefs down in the palace kitchens. She'd attempted to go out into the training grounds on her first day, but her temporary maid from the palace had stopped her, acting as if the world itself would end if she dared to do such a thing. Though disappointed she couldn't keep herself busy, she humoured the young maid, worried the poor girl would pop a blood vessel if she panicked any more.

That left her with little to do to fill her time. She had none of the duties she'd had back in Erebor, and though Thandir had stuck around for the first few days, eventually he had to return to his post in Cair Andros, leaving her with no friends, either. She had run into Ecthelion once. He'd greeted her amiably and politely enquired how she was feeling (he'd heard from his father of her pregnancy, which he whole-heartedly congratulated her on). But their conversation hadn't lasted long, as he'd been required to join the soldiers with their training.

That had been two days ago.

Eventually, Alana's boredom had led her to exploring the grand tower. She came across guest room after guest room in one hallway, as well as a study (which she had a feeling she wasn't allowed in, and thus quickly vacated), the kitchens, the servant's quarters, and a library.

The library was a beautiful room, full of dark, aged wood and dusty books. The aisles created a veritable maze, as the room wasn't all that large and the book collection was enormous. High up on the walls were works of art which Alana assumed were decades, if not centuries old. In the centre of the maze-like room was a round table, around which were six plush chairs. Sitting in one chair, his nose in a thick tome, was a young boy.

Alana judged him to be roughly around Aragorn's age, maybe a year or so older. His hair was a shade of ashy chestnut, and even as she watched, a lock of it fell over his shoulder and he impatiently shoved it behind his ear as he continued to read, unaware of her presence.

Not wanting to startle him, Alana quietly cleared her throat. The young boy's face became irritated for a second, before he schooled his expression to one of polite blankness and raised his head. Surprise flickered across his young features as he took her in, clearly not expecting a stranger to be disturbing him.

"Hello, my Lady," he greeted, though she got the impression he didn't really know how to act around her; whether to treat her with deference, or whether to expect to be treated that way by her.

Alana smiled. "Good morning," she replied. "I wasn't expecting to find a young man in here."

The boy shrugged. "I wouldn't normally be," he told her. "Apparently the Queen of Erebor is here, so my father and grandfather have changed everyone's schedules to accommodate for her." Alana frowned, not liking that her presence caused so much disruption to those who lived here. Before she could speak again, the boy - whom she guessed to be Ecthelion's son, Denethor - continued. "It's not so bad, I suppose. At least it gives me time to myself."

"What are you reading?" Alana asked, approaching the boy. She gestured to the chair beside him, a wordless inquiry over whether she could sit there, and he nodded.

Denethor's eyes flicked back to his book. "It's a book about Osgiliath," he told her. "It's history and such."

"Are you interested in history?"

Denethor shrugged again. "It's alright, I suppose. My tutor assigned this as part of my work. I've tried reading it before, but my sisters kept disturbing me."

Alana's eyebrows rose. "Sisters?" she asked, surprised. She couldn't remember Ecthelion mentioning that he had daughters when he'd visited Erebor prior to Thorin's coronation.

Denethor nodded. "Eirda and Annalyn. They're both older than me." He looked up at her. "Do you have any brothers or sisters, my Lady?" he asked.

Alana nodded. "Yes, I do. I have a younger brother who is around your age, and I also have a sister-in-law - the younger sibling of my husband."

"Do they ever drive you crazy?"

Laughing, Alana nodded. "Yes, sometimes, I suppose. My brother I don't get to see very often, so the time I spend with him is precious to me. He is a gem, as far as I am concerned. My sister, however... she is stubborn as a mule and so, when we disagree on things, we can be stuck in a stalemate for _days_ , sometimes. Ah, but I love her all the same."

Slowly, he nodded. "I know what you mean, I think. But my sisters and I have very little in common. They seem to believe their only purpose in life is to find a husband and have children."

"Do you not wish for that?"

Denethor frowned. "Well... not right _now_ , no. I don't think I'm ready for it. I don't think _they_ are, either, but they clearly don't agree with me." He shrugged. "One day, I suppose, I might want that, but... I don't know... it's just... scary."

"I know," Alana said simply, nodding her head.

He looked up at her in confusion. "You... do?"

Alana nodded again. "I do." Her hands fell to her stomach, an action that caught Denethor's attention. "I know exactly how scary it is. The idea of being a parent. Of not being ready." She smiled. "Thing is... until you hold your child in your arms for the first time, I don't think you can really _know_ when you're ready."

Denethor stared at her belly for a few moments, his expression thoughtful, before nodding. "I suppose you're right."

With a smile, Alana moved to stand. "Well, I shan't keep you from your book any longer. It was lovely to meet you."

"You too, my Lady," he replied with a smile, before blinking. "Oh... I'm sorry, I never got your name."

Smile widening, Alana introduced herself with a teasing curtsy. "Alana, daughter of Arathorn. At your service."

The boy grinned, and Alana took note of the fact he didn't seem to make the link between herself and the Queen he knew to be living in the palace. "Denethor, son of Ecthelion, at yours, Lady Alana."

Throwing a wink in his direction, Alana spun on her heels and left the boy to his reading, once again faced with the dilemma of what in Eru's name she could possibly do to stem her boredom.

* * *

Thorin and the rest of the group were due to arrive within the week, and Alana was more than happy to learn of this. Shortly before leaving Cair Andros, Alana had asked the Captain to send out a rider to meet with Thorin and the others - to assure them that she had found her way there safely. Not two days past, the messenger had ridden into Minas Tirith with news of their whereabouts. The group had made better progress than even Alana had been expecting of them. They were likely within three days of Cair Andros by now, and the messenger had informed the dwarven envoy that Malhind would be looking for their arrival. They were to receive the greatest hospitality the Rangers could offer them.

Alana had taken to walking the streets of Minas Tirith to keep her occupied. Each day she would explore a different level, and discovered that the idea of hierarchy and social status was shown in the layout of its housing - the higher in social class one was, the higher in the city they were. There were very few houses below the third level; presumably as a measure of safety, to keep the unarmed innocents of the city away from the levels which were most likely to be attacked.

She had discovered her preferred levels were the sixth and the first.

The sixth level was home to Minas Tirith's Houses of Healing, and the healers had welcomed her eagerly once she revealed that she had some skill in the healing arts. Alana had spent an entire day in there, cleaning and wrapping wounds, talking to and laughing with those she helped. The other healers forbade her from entering the wing that housed the sick - and she didn't argue with them, not wanting to put her baby in any unnecessary danger. Many of those she tended were part of the city guard, who had been injured in over-zealous sparring matches. They were cheerful folk, and were grateful for her help. That was the first day since her arrival in Minas Tirith that Alana had been openly flirted with - something which had been pointed out to her as she was preparing to head back to the Citadel. Alana had gaped at the young healer who had so blithely mentioned that she had caught the eyes of no less than seven of the soldiers, and had flushed red when she realised that her ignorance meant there was a chance those soldiers would believe her to be... uninvolved.

The first level was probably her favourite, if she was forced to choose. It was home to main city armoury - though there was another, smaller armoury on the second level - and the guard barracks, meaning the guard presence was heavier here. It was also home to the city's top blacksmiths, keeping a constant supply of blades and armour for the guards, Rangers, and hunters. Living in Erebor had given Alana a greater appreciation for the smithing craft, and though she was sure these smiths would struggle to match the quality of dwarven metalwork, she could admit that many of them were skilled enough to nonetheless give them a run for their money. There was one smith in particular - a gentle giant called Calico - whom Alana had grown rather fond of very quickly. Her fondness seemed reciprocated - within about two hours of them meeting, Calico had assigned her the moniker 'Mouse'.

In addition to those, the first level was also home to the market. Like the market in Erebor, most hours of the day it was heaving with people, little stalls constructed in the streets, vendors calling out to their potential customers. You could buy almost anything in this market; from food to cloth, books to weapons. Alana loved the lively atmosphere, and the fact that most of the people wandering through the market had smiles on their faces. People greeted each other by name, and visitors to the city were treated like treasured guests.

On this day, Alana had ventured to the market again, simply to enjoy the carnage and bustling nature of it. She was keenly aware of how different she was now to how she used to be - as a Ranger, she actively avoided crowded places, and could never imagine herself in a city environment. Now, she liked to believe this was the sort of place where she could thrive.

Alana was stolen from her musings when her eyes caught sight of a woman weaving through the crowd. Her hair was what drew her attention - unlike the various shades of red, brown and black of the Gondorian people, her hair was a shade of blonde so pale it looked almost white in the morning sun. Her skin was a sun-kissed shade, and she moved with an almost inhuman grace. If Alana didn't have a clear view of the rounded edge of the woman's ears, she would have sworn she was looking at an elf.

The woman was greeted by several people as she weaved through the crowd, a wicker basket in her hand. She smiled and responded to each person, never lingering long enough to start a proper conversation. It was as the woman stopped by a bread stall that she looked up, meeting Alana's eyes from across the market. Alana didn't avert her gaze, but instead tilted her head to the side in silent invitation. The mysterious woman turned back to the stall owner, thanked him for the bread he passed over, and then walked across the market towards her.

Alana became starkly aware of the fact that the two of them were - visually at least - as different as night and day. The woman's eyes were the unique shade of pale blue found in the mornings over a mountain, while Alana's were the colour of the night sky. Alana's hair seemed also suddenly much darker when put next to the light shade of the stranger's.

"You are the Steward's new guest," the woman said, by way of a greeting. Her voice had a soothing quality, soft and pleasant to listen to. "I've seen you walking through the streets on three occasions now."

Alana smiled. "Yet this is the first time I have seen you," she said in return. "Might I request your name?"

Her own lips curling upwards, the woman gave a quick curtsy. "I am Nivari, my Lady."

"Nivari?" Alana repeated, eyebrows rising. She gave a light chuckle. "It seems your reputation proceeds you."

Nivari blinked. "My reputation?" she repeated, frowning.

"A friend of mine mentioned he wanted to introduce us," explained Alana. "Thought I might need some help with... deflecting male attention, as it were."

Laughter sprung up into Nivari's eyes. "Was this friend of your Thandir, by any chance?"

With equal amusement, Alana answered, "Yes, it was."

Nivari chuckled fondly. "That man has been trying to win my affections for at least a year now," she said. "I have turned him down more times than I could count even if I had ten pairs of hands." Her smiled became sad. "He is a good, kind man, and one day he will make a woman very happy... but that woman is not me."

Alana sensed she was venturing closer and closer to dangerous ground, but did her best to keep the conversation innocent. "By his words, it seems like he is not the only one seeking your attention."

Eyes clearing and brightening again, Nivari shook her head. "No, he is not." Her lips quirked up. "I think my appearance is considered to be... exotic and exciting here. There are very few women in Gondor with blonde hair, fewer still with hair as pale as mine."

"Hair colour aside, you are still very beautiful," Alana stated bluntly, and Nivari blinked in surprise at her candid comment. "Frankly, it doesn't surprise me that you have so many admirers."

Nivari seemed stunned, but caught herself quickly. "And what of you, my Lady? You must surely have admirers of your own."

Alana smiled. "Please, call me Alana. As for your question... I suppose there is a chance that I do, but I am already married - happily so - and have no wish for any. It was for that reason Thandir suggested I talk to you. I have lived my life largely on my own, or in the company of those who are the closest thing to family that they could be without sharing blood. This is the first time I've been in a city of men for a long time."

Nivari frowned. "A city of men?" she repeated, confused. "Your wording suggests that you have not lived amongst your own kind for some time." Alana nodded, and Nivari's frown deepened further. "Then... where have you been living?"

"In Erebor," Alana replied.

Immediately, Nivari's eyes widened, and she staggered back a step. "Y-You are King Thorin's new Queen?"

Calmly, Alana nodded. "Yes, I am."

Nivari sucked in a long breath, as if trying to calm herself. Alana allowed her a moment to do so - while she didn't particularly enjoy being treated as... well, as a Queen... she had become used to it now. At length, Nivari asked her, "So, what is it that Thandir thought I could help you with?"

Alana chuckled. "Like I said, I'm not used to an environment like this. I have visited this city only once before, and I did not stay for long. I have visited Edoras twice, but by comparison it is considerably less crowded, and they are more wary of strangers." She sighed. "My point is... I have no idea how to tell if someone is making an advance towards me. I don't know what signs to look for. Thandir suggested I ask you for some pointers."

Eyebrows rising, Nivari blurted out, "You do not know how to tell if someone is...?" She exhaled. "Forgive me if I find that surprising - I would have thought you would be more than used to it."

Alana chuckled lightly. "I think I will take that as a compliment, Lady Nivari."

That time, Nivari joined in with her laughter.

* * *

Alana spent much of her time in the next few days in Nivari's company, finding her to be a very friendly woman. She was not as loud or coarse as many of the women that Alana knew - most of whom were dwarves - and Alana found her mild-mannered behaviour to be refreshing. It took several repeated requests, but eventually the blonde woman also stopped addressing her as 'my Lady', instead using Alana's given name.

During their time together, Nivari would explain and point out some signs that a man was flirting with her, and even encouraged the darker haired woman to test her knowledge. Alana found herself meeting a lot of knew people because of this - nearly all of them men - and slowly grew more aware of the way said men were behaving.

She also got to witness first-hand as Nivari used her experience to turn away three potential suitors, all of whom were suave and charming. Without the knowledge her new friend had given her, Alana would never have known the men were being anything but simply polite.

It soon became normal for the two women to be seen in the market arm-in-arm, talking and laughing with one another as if they'd been friends their entire lives.

Alana eventually learned the reason for Nivari's refusal to accept suitors - she had already been married. Her husband, a soldier by the name of Tarrien, had died two years past. They'd fallen in love with each other at a young age, and had married in secret and eloped due to the fact neither of their families supported their union. The two had lived in a small town in Rohan, on the edges of the White Mountains, before moving to Minas Tirith together. Tarrien had been quick to offer his service to the Steward as a soldier, while Nivari had found a job in the stables, helping to train new horses. Tarrien had been part of a small crew sent out to Cair Andros to commune with the Rangers there, but on the way back the group had been accosted by an orc pack that had managed to slip past the Rangers' defences. Tarrien was one of three who had lost their lives in the resulting skirmish.

Nivari had somehow known that something would go wrong - she described a feeling of dread and fear that had struck her with all the force of a lightning bolt when Tarrien told her of his assignment. She had begged and pleaded for him not to go, but he refused to disobey his orders. When saying goodbye to one another, Nivari had been certain it was the last time she would get to do so. She had been right.

"I don't know whether other women have ever felt such a thing as me," Nivari told her as the two sat in the blonde woman's house, "or whether I alone could feel such dread... but I sometimes wonder if, perhaps, Tarrien could have been saved had I pushed a little harder for him to stay."

Alana placed her hand over Nivari's, hoping the touch would comfort her. "It is a feeling any who knows love has felt before," she said quietly. "When the person we love faces an unknown danger, there is always that feeling. The fear, the worry... the hollow dread. But Tarrien's death was _not_ your doing. Maybe the feeling you got really _was_ some kind of warning, or maybe it was just a result of your love for him... but you should not hold yourself responsible for his passing."

"I just wish we'd had more time together," Nivari whispered in a mournful tone, head bowed in sorrow.

Alana sighed. "When two people love each other as strongly as you and Tarrien did... even an eternity would not be enough time to satisfy you." She gave Nivari's hand a gentle squeeze. "All of the time you _did_ have, short though it may be, is infinitely better than no time at all. I know it is difficult, but try not to be burdened by his death. Focus instead on remembering his life, and the time you shared together. Hold on to those times, because they are precious beyond measure." Nivari nodded slowly, but Alana knew such a thing was easier said than done. She also knew that Nivari thought Alana didn't understand - that she _couldn't_. Alana's husband was still very much alive, and they still had many more years to live out together. "My people can live for well over two hundred years," she admitted, and Nivari lifted her head. Her teary eyes met Alana's, and the darker haired woman knew she was listening intently. "Dwarves in the Durin line can live to three hundred." Alana drew in a deep, shaky breath. "Thorin is 196 years old. I am 27. Dwarves may have longer lifespans than my people, but... I will still outlast him. Maybe even by as much as a century. I will have to live half of my life without him by my side, and I knew that before I married him. But I do not doubt my decision for even a moment, because the time that I _do_ have with him is worth more to me than I can put into words. I would rather spend even half a lifetime with him than spend all the ages of this world alone. I know that, when the time comes that I must bury him in the ground, I will be grateful for the years I was able to spend as his wife. It will not make his passing hurt any less, but it will give me something to hold onto when all hope of happiness seems lost."

From that moment on, the friendship between the two shifted. They had known each other only for a few days, but they had each spilled their hearts and secrets and regrets to one another, and it had solidified and strengthened the bond they shared beyond measure.

It took another day for Nivari to learn that Alana was pregnant, and besides an initial moment of sadness for the life she could not have herself, Nivari was beside herself with joy for her friend. She had dragged Alana by the hand through the market, talking a mile a minute about everything and nothing, and it seemed that Alana's child's life had been planned out in the space of one afternoon. Alana had laughed at Nivari's enthusiasm at first, but it wasn't long before the two of them were plotting and planning together, giggling like children. Any sadness or melancholy that Nivari once held seemed to evaporate in the face of their excitement, and when the day came to an end, and they had to return to their respective lodgings, Nivari had drawn Alana into a long, warm hug.

"Your son will be the most loved child in all the world," she said, squeezing Alana tighter as the dark haired woman returned her embrace. "He will bring such joy to your life, I am sure of it." She pulled away at last, though her hands remained on Alana's shoulders. "Do not take him for granted."

"I won't," Alana promised, taking Nivari's hands in hers. She hesitated a moment, before saying, "I do not know how long we will stay in Minas Tirith once Thorin arrives, but... I know that parting from you will be a pain I have no wish to bear. I will understand if you have no wish to, and I will not begrudge for it, but I wish for you to come home with us." Nivari's whole body jolted in surprise. "I think you would thrive in Dale, should you wish to travel with us. And I would be more than happy to have you so close. You are a dear friend - so much so that it is strange to think I did not know you a week ago." She gave Nivari's hands a squeeze. "You need not decide now, but please, at least consider my offer." She gave Nivari a small smile, before offering a quiet goodbye and turning to walk back through the city.

Her offer hadn't been a spur-of-the-moment thing. The longer she'd spent with Nivari, the less she'd wanted to have to part ways with her. She had no doubt that Thorin and the others would be perfectly happy with Nivari amongst their numbers. And though she hadn't said it aloud, Alana thought that a change of scenery would be good for her friend. Minas Tirith was the setting for many of Nivari's memories with Tarrien, and as long as she remained here, she didn't think Nivari could truly get past his death. Perhaps making a new life for herself somewhere new was what she needed to let go of her grief.

Alana paused at the top of the path, just before the gate leading to the second level, and turned back. Nivari was still in the middle of the street, and even from a distance Alana could tell her eyes were glazed over as she thought. It was true that she would not force Nivari to come with her, nor would she do anything further to persuade or convince her. From here, the decision was Nivari's alone to make.

Still, Alana couldn't help but send a prayer to the Valar that the blonde woman would agree.


	40. Arrivals

**A/N: This one is shorter than usual, but I found a comfortable stopping point and didn't want to force it to go longer than was natural. Hope you like it!**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: January1993, Ailinell, Rose099, shadowbella987, xNymira, jenniferlynncobb, lina. kallio, siriusstarruth and Cammie Anne Morgan**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **RainAstiel: Thanks, and I'm glad you like it...! And yes, new friendships can be great :)**

 **ro781727: Even if I went with PJ's portrayal of Denethor later (which I probably won't, if I ever get that far), Denethor is still a child at this point. All children his age will have some innocence to them, and I thought the fact that he's only a year older than Aragorn would be a good reason for Alana to automatically assume good things of him. Glad you approve :)**

 **electrogirl88: That's definitely true - I've had so little time to write in the last month or so, and it kind of sucks. I'm still trying though...!**

 **JollyRoger1: Thanks, and thanks again :)**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: A lot of the time the only thing one needs is someone who understands them, and I like to think Alana and Nivari share that level of understanding despite only having known each other a short time.**

 **xNymira (for chapter 1): I feel like, had you worn it longer, that corset would have torn your back apart piece by piece XD Lovely to hear from you, thank you so much for all your comments, and I'm glad you're enjoying this :)**

 **jenniferlynncobb: Aww, thanks :D Here's 'more'! ;)**

* * *

 **'There is no love without forgiveness, and there is no forgiveness without love.' ~ Bryant H McGill**

* * *

 **Chapter 40:**

Alana was little more of a whirlwind of black hair and dark red skirts to the people she flew by, all but flying through the streets. She called out many quick 'sorry's to those she bumped into or only marginally avoided, but otherwise ignored those she passed along the way.

She made it down to the first level before she almost literally smacked into someone - she was saved at the last minute by a strong pair of arms grabbing her and spinning her around them, so as to wear off her momentum.

"Easy there, Mouse," said the familiar, deep voice of Calico as he set her back on her feet. "Don't wanna be 'arming that wee babe o' yers."

Alana nodded, though her eyes were sweeping the area, trying to see the front gate through the throngs of people in the market. "I know, I know," she said distractedly. "I just..." She blinked, then grinned up at him. "He's here, Calico. Thorin's _here_."

Calico grinned, revealing his slightly crooked teeth. "Then go to 'im, Mouse. Jus' be a little more careful this time, eh?"

Grin widening, Alana nodded. "I promise."

Alana had spotted the dwarven group making their way to Minas Tirith from the north, accompanied by a small entourage of Rangers. They were barely more than a blurred dot in the distance, and Alana had been unable to make out any details, but in her gut she knew that it was them. The timing matched up with what the scouts' reports had said, which made her even more certain, but she had always trusted her gut regardless of facts and figures.

Taking Calico's advice and slowing down to a walk, Alana started weaving through the crowded marketplace. She felt jumpy and her hands were trembling with anticipation. Throughout their time together, Alana wasn't sure she'd ever gone longer without laying eyes on her husband. The knowledge that she was going to see him and hold him and kiss him again for the first time in weeks sent a shot of adrenaline through her system.

She spotted Nivari before she made it to the front gate. The shock of her pale hair made her easy to pick out in the crowd, and Alana felt a smile spread across her lips as she moved ever closer to the front gate. She honestly couldn't wait to introduce Thorin to her - and her to him, for that matter. She hoped they'd get along.

Alana stopped dead in her tracks when she moved into a position that allowed her to see who Nivari was talking to.

He looked more haggard than she remembered, dark shadows under his eyes and a greater weight upon his shoulders. The furrow of his brows was deeper than usual, though she noticed it was easing up the more Nivari spoke.

Forgetting her march towards the entrance to the city, Alana changed the direction of her course, weaving through the crowds towards the duo.

A pair of old eyes, the colour of steel, skipped over Nivari's shoulder and met hers. Almost instantly some more of the burden on his shoulders seemed to lift, and a bright, kind smile spread over his lips. Alana returned it instantly, and the moment she was in front of him, she threw her arms around his shoulders.

" _Mithrandir_ ," she breathed, all but burying her face in his shoulder as his arms rose up to return her embrace. " _Gwannas lû and. (It has been too long.)_ " She drew back, beaming at him. "How have you been, my friend? Tell me all that has changed in the last months."

Gandalf let out a light chuckle, eyes crinkling at the sides. "Oh, not a lot. This is, in fact, the first time I have ventured east of the Misty Mountains since departing from Erebor with Bilbo. I have wandered the lands of your people, visited their villages. Even gone as far west as Ered Luin, though I did not stay long. Since then I have been in Rivendell, delving into Lord Elrond's many historic tomes."

Alana chuckled. "I would have thought that you know all that can be found in the library of Imladris by now."

"Well, I am an old man, my dear," Gandalf reminded her with a laugh. "My memory is not what it once was."

Alana grinned at him, a spark of mischief in her eyes, before turning to Nivari. The blonde woman had a peculiar expression on her face - looking somewhere torn between amusement and bewilderment. "Are you alright?" Alana asked, noting her friend's uncharacteristic quietness.

"Just a little surprised," Nivari admitted. "You didn't tell me you knew Mithrandir."

With a light scoff, Alana pointed out, "It's not the easiest thing to slip into casual conversation."

"Good way to start one, though," came the quick retort, and the two women grinned at each other.

Alana turned to face Gandalf again. "What business brings you to Minas Tirith?"

"Information," Gandalf answered in his usual vague and unforthcoming manner. "Though, I might ask you the same. I did not expect to see you so far from the Lonely Mountain."

Alana shrugged. "Thorin and I were invited here by Lord Turgon. We believe he wishes to create a trade deal with us."

"Are you sure it is wise to be travelling so far in your condition?"

"My con-?" Alana cut herself, shaking her head. "It shouldn't surprise me at this point that you know. And I'm certain I'll be fine, so long as I am careful."

Gandalf scoffed good-naturedly. "My dear girl, I do not believe 'careful' is a word that you have a very good understanding of."

"Especially where others are involved."

The new voice, familiar in its deep gruffness, caused Alana to whip around, her face lighting up into a bright smile that was quickly mirrored. "Thorin!"

Thorin's breath left his lungs in a huff as her body slammed into his, her arms wrapping around him so strongly that he was hard-pressed to gain it back. Still, it didn't stop him from offering up a warm chuckle and returning her hug with his own, turning his face towards her neck and gently nuzzling the skin there. " ** _Mazurulifûn buhzi, (I have missed you,)_** " he murmured, tightening his hold on her.

" _Im eithro, (And I you,)_ " she replied, feeling her throat starting to close up. " _ ** _ **Maltinê**_. (Forgive me.)**_" Her voice cracked. "Forgive me, please. I am sorry for how I acted. You were right, I was reckless and stupid and I-"

Thorin pulled back and covered her mouth with his hand, stopping her from rambling herself into a frenzy. "No, _**atamanel**_ , you were right to act. I was too harsh on you. Yes, what you did was reckless, but we were in a situation where there was no other option. You saved a life; I should not have faulted you for that." He smiled, placing his palm on her cheek. "Let us put this mess behind us, and speak not of it ever again."

Alana's face lit up with a crooked grin. "I think I can live with that," she muttered teasingly, before succumbing to the desire to place her mouth on his for the first time in weeks. Thorin's lips were chapped and his beard was less tidy than usual, but she didn't care. A powerful warmth built in her chest the longer they remained lip-locked, and Alana felt a distinct disappointment when he slowly pulled away.

Thorin sent her another affectionate look, reassuring her once again that she had been forgiven for endangering herself, before he turned to Gandalf. "Tharkûn," he said warmly. "It is good to see you, after so long."

While the two of them greeted each other, and Dwalin stepped up to join them, the rest of the little dwarven group hovered uncomfortably nearby. The stares and curious glances of the people of Minas Tirith were clearly bothering them; though these people were more welcoming towards visitors than most, to see a dwarf - let alone a whole group - was still a rare thing.

Alana glanced to her right when she felt a presence next to her. Nivari's lips were curling up at one side, and her eyes were on Thorin. "I almost feel insulted you didn't tell me how gorgeous he is."

Alana snorted. "And lose the chance to hear _that_ reaction? Not a chance." She nudged her friend in the ribs. "Just don't let your eyes linger too long. He's mine."

Nivari blinked, tearing her eyes away, and then smiled in an almost sheepish manner. "No promises."

Rolling her eyes, Alana turned to the rest of the group and grinned at Makaylen, who instantly used that as her cue to head towards her. The two shared a quick but heart-felt embrace.

"I'm glad you're safe," Makaylen told her without preamble. "Though I still wish you'd let me come with you." Her eyes flickered to Nivari, whose own expression betrayed her curiosity. The dam took the initiative, bowing her head politely. "Makaylen, at your service."

"Nivari," came the amused reply, "at yours." She smiled. "I've heard a fair bit about you these last few days."

Makaylen's eyebrows rose, and her eyes flicked to Alana. "Good things, I hope."

"Only the best," Nivari assured her. "Alana seems very fond of you."

Makaylen's cheeks darkened only a little, though she managed to shrug it off by saying, "Given how much time we spend in each other's company, I'd be a little insulted if she wasn't."

"Well," Alana teased, "there's always the chance that too much time with you would drive me mad, rather than endear me to you."

Makaylen cocked an eyebrow. "I'm really feeling the love, Alana. Thanks." The sarcasm was thick enough for even a deaf man to detect, and caused both Nivari and Alana to break out into laughter. Makaylen quickly joined in.

Their joy caught the attention of Thorin, Dwalin and Gandalf, all of whom paused in their own conversation to look over at the three. Thorin was pleased to learn that Alana had found good company to spend her time with while she'd been here, and was equally glad that the blonde woman was so at ease with the rest of them there - men could be quite cruel to the dwarves when they wanted to be, though he was glad this occurrence was lessening in frequency as the years progressed.

"I would like to congratulate you," Gandalf said, drawing Thorin's attention once more. "You and Alana have achieved many great things together. Not least of all the child she now carries in her womb."

The smile that appeared was automatic, softening some of the travel-worn lines on Thorin's face. "We were not expecting a child so soon," he admitted. "But I do not doubt that neither of us would wish this to change if we were given the choice."

"And your people?" the wizard asked, leaning on his staff. "How have they reacted to the news?"

"With little else but equal delight, as far as I have seen," came Thorin's reply, Dwalin nodding in agreement. "Alana is dearly loved by our people, and so her joys are their own."

Before either could speak again, Alana cut in. "Right," she said in a business-like tone, clapping her hands together. "We ought to get up to the Citadel. No doubt the Steward has learned by now of your arrival, and it's quite the trek all the way to the top, so we'd best get started."

* * *

Though it was greener and the air was fresher than it had been during their last 'visit', Mirkwood was still a dreary place to be, in Kili's opinion. There was just not enough noise. Not the clamour of voices, nor the ringing of metal on metal, nor even the muted sound of hundreds of feet. The occasional bird tweeted but never did they sing, and their elven escort made nary a sound. All that was left was the plodding of their ponies' hooves, and the rustle of the leaves overhead.

Kili was thankful that he was not here alone; Fili was by his side, though he too was silent. Their escort of guards from the Lonely Mountain had halted at the edge of the forest, and were to wait there until Fili and Kili returned, unless they were called back home for whatever reason.

The Prince could admit to himself that he'd been a mite disappointed Tauriel wasn't among the elves sent to guide them to the halls of the elven King, though he had known it wasn't going to be a likely event. Tauriel's position as Captain meant she had far more important things to be worrying about. Still, she was the only elf he really knew (and even that was something of a stretch), and he'd have liked her familiar company. Though there would probably always be a chasm of sorts between them, just due to the different bloods that ran through their veins, Kili liked to think he and Tauriel could become friends one day.

It took them several hours, even while being led by those who knew these trees like the backs of their hands, to reach the entrance to the elven caves. Kili did his best to find way to amuse himself, but there was only so much a dwarf could do in an environment like this before going mad with boredom. Fili wasn't helping much, either. He seemed to be perfectly content with this near-suffocating silence, and whenever Kili had opened his mouth to interrupt it, his older brother had quickly sent him a sharp look that had him promptly snapping his mouth shut again.

Kili was just beginning to regret the decision to come along at all (not that it was really his decision, since his mother all but ordered him to go) when they at last came to a break in the trees. The entrance to the elven caves was one Kili wasn't sure he'd ever forget, being such a peculiar amalgamation of cultural clashes. His knowledge of the history of Mirkwood was - understandably - not all that great, but he knew enough to know that the elven people had been aided by dwarven stonemasons when carving out the Elvenking's Halls. The designs and embellishments in the columns and arches were undoubtedly of elven origin, but Kili could still detect the handiwork of his own people in the foundations, and in the masterful way the entrance was built into the stone surrounding it.

There was an undeniable sense of comfort that came over him as he walked through the border between the woods and the caves. Maybe it was an inherent part of being dwarf, or simply a result of the environment he'd grown up in, but being underground made him feel safe. There were fewer places for an enemy to hide in the wide open spaces beneath the earth, whereas in the forest, every tree could potentially be shielding an adversary.

"I must admit," Fili commented from beside him, _finally_ breaking the dragging silence, "entering this place of my own will does wonders for my appreciation of the stonework."

Kili found himself nodding in agreement. "Aye, it's amazing how much you can become blind to in circumstances like the ones we were in before."

The two Princes were led through the halls by their ghost-like escorts, each taking the chance to look at the elven kingdom with fresh eyes. Kili had to admit he found all the softened edges a little peculiar - the bridges that were arched instead of horizontal, the round, delicately decorated columns - but he could also admit to himself that he wouldn't find it difficult to live here. There were so many similarities between the home of the dwarves and this elven kingdom that, with one eye closed, it could be possible to mistake one for the other. Maybe.

He still definitely preferred the more harsh, angular style of the dwarves, though.

It was unsurprising that, when they entered the throne room, Thranduil was lounging on his throne as if the worries of the world had never touched so much as a finger to his skin. If arrogance were to have a physical form, Kili reckoned the elven King could be said form. Still, Kili had to commend him. The alliance between the dwarves of Erebor and elves of Mirkwood was still young, and keeping relations civil required a fair amount of effort on both their behalves. Thranduil was certainly doing that, and Kili would not deny him the recognition he deserved for it.

" _Mae govannen_ , King Thranduil," Fili greeted, placing his arm across his chest so his hand was a fist above his heart. " _Êl síla nan lû e-govaded vín. (A star shines on the occasion of our meeting.)_ "

Kili blinked, staring at his brother as if he had grown another head. Thranduil, meanwhile, merely cocked an eyebrow. "I did not look to see you speaking the tongue of elves," he said, a note of interest in his voice.

Fili let his lips twitch up to the side. "I am far from fluent, my Lord, but Alana still sometimes drifts into elvish when she isn't paying attention. I have picked up a few of the basics, though I admit I do not know the direct translation of... most of what I've learnt."

Something of a smirk twitched into place on Thranduil's lips. "Your lack of training is apparent; your pronunciation was..." He trailed off, either to let Fili fill the gaps or to remain polite, Kili wasn't entirely sure.

Fili, luckily, took it in his usual good-natured way. "Terrible, I know," he laughed. "You'll have to forgive me. My tongue is not used to forming such shapes."

"Indeed," Thranduil said, leaning back further into his chair. "Nonetheless, the effort is appreciated." He gave his version of a smile and bowed his head. " _Le nathlof hí. (You are welcome here.)_ "

Scratching the back of his neck, Fili admitted, "I have no idea what you just said."

It took a second for it to register in Kili's mind that Thranduil had genuinely _laughed_ in response to his brother's confession. It was a quiet, short laugh, but it didn't sound feigned at all. The two dwarves exchanged surprised glances with one another, both of them wondering what could have possibly changed in the elven King's life to make him so much less bitter than he had been before.

The King stood up, descending from his throne with his long, silver robes trailing behind him. "Come," he said calmly. "There is something I wish to show you."

With another glance shared between them, Kili and Fili followed behind him, curious as to what it was the elf wanted them to see.


	41. What Once Was Lost

**A/N: Uguzhdfkxdsvgfa. Gods, I had no idea I would have so little time to write...! I'm SO sorry for another update being so frustratingly late, but with uni going the way it is, I get the feeling it's gonna be happening more often (sorry...!). Hopefully you'll keep up with it, and hopefully your endless patience is rewarding. P.S. I played around with a few loose ends in Tolkien's lore here, so I hope you don't hate me...**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: lina. kallio, tamadsl, Allyria Black, Lafilledeseverus, I-got-zapped, WhiteTiger24, gingergalaxy7777 and Mezzem313...! :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **ro781727: I'd imagine the month they had to cool down helped somewhat :P**

 **RainAstiel: The suspense which lasted WAY longer than I;d hoped, but... sfjkghdfljkgks I guess**

 **JollyRoger1: Thanks! :)))**

* * *

 **'I regret those time when I've chosen the dark side. I've wasted enough time not being happy.' ~ Jessica Lange**

* * *

 **Chapter 41:**

The halls of the elven King grew increasingly chilled the deeper into the ground they delved. While Erebor had its great forges in the lower levels, belting out heat at all hours of the day, the elves clearly had no such system in place, leaving the air still and cold.

They came across a great doorway, carefully constructed out of darkened wood. The hinges and decorations were made of cast-iron, worn and warped by age, but still strong. Thranduil paused in front of the door, before turning to the dwarves that shadowed him with a serious expression on his face.

"What I am about to show you is something that no one outside my family has laid eyes on in many centuries," he told them. "You may look upon it and wish to throw accusations at me, but I wish that you would first offer me the courtesy of explaining its presence in my halls." Kili exchanged a glance with his brother, the two of them bearing furrowed brows, but they nodded in agreement to the elven King. Thranduil seemed to hesitate for a moment, before turning and pushing open the great doors. The wood creaked and groaned, but the hinges - despite their tired state - did not squeak. Thranduil proceeded into the next room. "This has been the vault in which the royal line has housed its greatest artefacts since these halls were first carved," the King said as he began to lead them through the long and narrow room beyond the door. "My father came to the Greenwood from Lindon. He once lived alongside the dwarves, in relative peace. When many of the elves left Middle Earth for Aman, my father was among those who chose to stay. He befriended many dwarves in his time in that part of the world - particularly the dwarves of Belegost, for their cousins to the south were not so... _fond_ of our kind. As I'm sure you know, most of the dwarves that once dwelled in Belegost moved to Moria after the War of Wrath."

"We know the history of the dwarves well enough," Fili said, voice polite but suggesting his patience was wearing a little thin. "But what does this have to do with what you wish to show us?"

Thranduil cocked an eyebrow as they began to pass the first of a series of alcoves, all centred with pedestals bearing precious jewels or ancient weapons and everything in between. The elf's tone did not change, but Kili felt a thrill of unease in his stomach at the King's next question. "What do you know of the Nimphelos, Master Dwarf?"

Fili started, then narrowed his eyes a fractional amount. "It is a pearl," he answered slowly. "An heirloom of the old Lords of Belegost, and later of Khazad-Dûm. There are rumours the dwarves valued it above all else in their realm - much like the Arkenstone's value amongst Durin's folk today. But it was lost sometime near the War of the Last Alliance. Why?"

Thranduil's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Not lost," he corrected. "Gifted. To me." He noticed both Fili and Kili's expressions had darkened slightly, but true to their word, they did not immediately throw any accusations of untruth his way. "My father led a force from the Greenwood to join an army leaving Lothlórien, myself among their number, and we were met not long after by a small army leaving Moria. Among their numbers was the King of Durin's folk at the time."

"Durin V," Kili recalled, this being part of the rather limited amount he knew of his ancestry. "He was King during that war, and led the dwarves of Khazad-Dûm into an age of great prosperity thereafter."

Thranduil nodded. "Not many remember the presence of the Greenwood elves in that war, nor, I believe, do many beyond your own kind remember the presence of the dwarves of Moria. Though our peoples have always had a certain... rivalry, many of the Moria dwarves remembered from their histories that my father had once been an ally to their people. Such bonds were recreated in their time journeying with us. During a particular skirmish somewhere in what is now the Wold, my father and his Captain, Nimdor, saved the life of Durin from an orc Chieftain."

Kili's fingers twitched in surprise at this. Thranduil hadn't lied that the Moria dwarves' involvement in the War of the Last Alliance was little known, and even Durin's folk did not know the full tale. So this was entirely new information for them, and something told him Thranduil wasn't lying.

"In the aftermath of the war," Thranduil continued, "shortly before my people and I were to return to the Greenwood, I was approached by Durin. He had learned of my father's passing, and came to offer his condolences. He made an offer of an alliance." The elf paused, both in his speech and his steps. Fili and Kili drew to a halt alongside him, both of them listening with rapt attention. "In my grief and anger, I refused him. The silvan elves of Mirkwood have always been wary of outsiders, but my father was a sindar, and he recognised the threat of Sauron to be one that meant some traditions had to be put by the wayside. At the time, I believed that my father's death was a result of that - of the alliances he forged with others; alliances which I believed _forced_ him to come to their aid. I realise now that I had been blinded, and refusing an offer of peace between my people and yours was my first and perhaps - even to this day - biggest mistake as King of the Greenwood elves. But Durin did not hold it against me. In his own way, he understood what my grief was doing." Thranduil finally began moving again, the room seemingly endless as they continued to wind their way through the long corridors and numerous artefacts of clear importance. "I did not ever speak to Durin again. But he did not forget that he had a debt left unpaid. My father saved his life, and in doing so allowed him to bring his people into a time of great wealth and fortune. Durin - being in possession of the Nimphelos - gifted the pearl to me shortly before his death, in payment of this debt." He stopped in front of one of the many alcoves in the room, eyes on something Kili couldn't see from where he was standing. "And thus, here it has sat ever since. A remnant of an age long passed, of alliances long turned to dust, and people long since buried beneath the soil."

Kili shuffled slightly to the right, and suddenly he could see it. There was a small box on the tall pedestal, lined with red velvet. Sat within the box was the Nimphelos. The pearl was gleaming, it's pale colour reflecting the dim light in the room and giving it a golden hue. It was roughly the size of an dove's egg, about an inch in diameter, and was probably the largest pearl Kili had ever laid eyes on.

"This is no meagre prize," Fili said at last, after several seconds of complete silence as they all stared at the pearl. "Yet it lies so deep in your vaults, as if to be hidden away and forgotten, even by you. Why?"

Thranduil's lips quirked up into a bitter smile. "You are more wise and perceptive than most, Prince Fili. It is a trait that I'm sure will serve you well in the years to come." He fell quiet again, then slowly admitted, "This pearl is a physical reminder of my foolishness. Of the opportunity I threw away. I look upon it and am forced to recall my mistakes." He looked down at Fili, whose expression was softer than before. "I look upon it and all I feel is shame."

"We all make mistakes in the face of grief," Kili said, and suddenly their eyes were glued to him. "Durin was right not to hold it against you. And though you may have pushed aside the opportunity back then, you are not doing so now. You are helping to lead our two peoples into an age where we might comfortably coexist, for the first time in centuries. That is no small thing."

"No, it is not," the King agreed. "Which is why you are here." He straightened his back, and Kili felt like he was watching the elven King build back up his haughty facade. "After the Battle of the Five Armies, your uncle sent his advisor after me, to return to me the White Gems of Lasgalen. A gesture of good faith, I was told, and of hope for a better future." Thranduil tilted his head towards them. "I will admit I had my doubts that the King would be able to resist the call of the gold forever, that it would not be long before he fell back under its power. His resistance thus far has... impressed me. As has his dedication to keeping this allegiance in one piece." He stepped forward, picking up the box and closing the lid. He then drew a small key from his pocket and locked the box, before holding it out. "This pearl by right belongs to your people. It is time, I think, that it is returned to you."

Slowly, Fili's hands rose to take the box. He seemed speechless, and for once in his life... so was Kili. "Thank you, my Lord," the blonde Prince said at last. "I will ensure this deed is never forgotten so long as I live."

Thranduil nodded. "I sincerely hope this alliance of ours lasts," he said.

Fili nodded, offering the elven King a smile. "I'm sure it will, my Lord. Until the very end of this age and far into the next."

* * *

Turgon's greeting with Thorin was far more formal and professional than the one he'd shared with Alana. Then again, Thorin didn't exactly throw off the 'approachable' vibe, so perhaps the Steward was simply playing it safe. He had then turned and greeted Gandalf, who quickly informed them of his desire to look in the archives of Gondor. With a wave of Turgon's hand, a guard stepped forward to lead him there and the grey wizard disappeared.

Having long since mastered the effort of listening with one ear, Alana was able to let her mind drift slightly as Thorin and Turgon began to discuss the reason for the dwarves' invitation. Her eyes flickered over said dwarven group, huddled in the right-hand corner of the room, while a group of men stood in the left. Dwalin was stood still as a statue, broad arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes never left Thorin. He took his duty as the General very seriously, but more than that... Thorin was his best friend, and he wanted him safe. Alana knew the world would be a darker place when Dwalin passed on, though she sincerely hoped it would be a long time before it did. The rest of the group either stood muttering amongst themselves, or slowly eyed the stonework in the building. It was difficult to tell from this distance what they thought of it, though Alana was pleased to see no open disdain amongst the group.

Her eyes shifted then to the group of men, and her eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise when she caught the eyes of a familiar young boy. Slightly behind and to the side of the group stood Denethor, who himself was staring at her with a startled expression, as if he had finally realised exactly who she was.

Alana offered the boy a smile and a discrete wink, and in return received a shy grin, before the boy's cheeks flamed pink and he ducked his head so she could no longer see his face. Amusement warred with concern at the boy's sudden shyness, but she didn't have long to think on it, as a particular part of the conversation going on beside her caught her full attention.

"We'd have to bring some of our stonemasons and smiths down here," Thorin was saying, rubbing his fingers along his chin in a thoughtful manner. "And the amount of work would warrant they stay for a few weeks, I'd imagine."

"We can house and feed them, for as long as is necessary," Turgon was quick to reassure him. "You have my word; they will want for nothing while they are here."

Thorin nodded, seeming satisfied. "A team of ten should be enough," he stated, moving his hands so they were clasped behind his back. "The doorway into the city is large, but dwarves are sure and efficient stone workers - and the fewer are here, the less likely they are to disagree on how the new gates are to be constructed." His lips quirked up at the side. "Alana," he turned his head to address her, and she blinked in surprise at her inclusion in the conversation. "You know the miners very well at this point; are there any in particular you feel should be here?"

Alana considered for a moment. Miners were not the same as stonemasons, as they did not sculpt and shape the rock they worked with, but their knowledge of stone was unbeatable in the Lonely Mountain. "Hothir is a great expert, and could probably list every rock type in ascending order of softness if you asked it of him," she said at length. "I'm sure if you sent for him, he would come. Nonetheless, he has a wife and a son - who is roughly Bambur's age - that I think he would prefer not to be parted from." She hummed again, thinking. "I suppose then that Skirvur would be most ideal. He knows plenty about stone, and has little family beside his brother. In fact, you should bring his brother along too; Vyrthur is a mason, and I believe he often frequents the forges and has friends amongst many of the best smiths in Erebor. If you were to send a message to those two, they could no doubt assemble a good team in a matter of hours."

Thorin nodded. "Then we shall do so as soon as this meeting is adjourned," he said.

Though Alana knew Thorin's faith in her was great - greater than her own faith in herself, she thought - it still flattered her that he accepted her advice without even the slightest moment of doubt. She felt a warm sensation filling her body again, and she tried to fight off the tender smile that played at her lips.

With the business side of things sorted, the rest of the meeting was fairly relaxed. Alana and Thorin stayed and talked with the Steward for almost an hour, during which time the dwarves were led away to the rooms they'd be staying in during their extended visit.

It quickly became clear how much the two had missed one another - when they were apart, they naturally turned their bodies so they could see their other half; when together, limbs and fingers brushed often, as if each wanted to reassure themselves that it wasn't something they were imagining. Which, for Alana, was most certainly true.

Eventually, however, conversation dwindled. Since the day was still young, Lord Turgon had duties to attend to, so he bid them farewell and left Alana to show Thorin where they were sleeping. Their fingers remained loosely tangled the whole time they walked, though they did not talk. A sense of comfort had washed over them - one that neither wanted to disturb.

The shared chamber they'd been given was - understandably - less grand than the one they had back in Erebor. The bed was a large four-poster, with plush pillows and soft covers. Sandwiching the bed were two white sidetables, each bearing a simple candlestick. On the wall to the left of the bed were two tall, narrow windows. The rest of the room was fairly nondescript - a chest of drawers, a changing screen, a wardrobe, and a vanity table.

Alana's favourite part of this chamber was almost completely hidden away.

The main door was made of strong wood and an ornate set of iron hinges. But there was another one in the corner of the room, tucked away next to the wardrobe. One could wander this room and miss it entirely. The door itself was nothing special - but it hid something of far greater beauty. On the other side of the door was a stone balcony, looking out over the Pelennor Fields and towards Osgiliath. With the looming backdrop of the Mountains of Shadow, Osgiliath looked like a silver beacon, shining particularly bright in the morning hours when the sun peaked up over the mountaintops. Alana loved coming out here at dawn, feeling the wind on her face and enjoying the view in peace before the rest of the world woke up.

She led Thorin through the door, giving him barely enough time to take in their room before tugging on his hand. He followed willingly enough, tightening his hold on her fingers when it seemed for a moment as if they would lose their grips on one another.

They came to a standstill by the stone railing, both of them looking over the vast expanse of green fields and enjoying the tranquillity of the moment. Alana's stomach twitched when she felt Thorin's hand press against it. Though the curve of her belly was still subtle - even more so under the thick material of her dress - it was still noticeable enough. Her hand moved to cover Thorin's, the two of them silently relishing in the knowledge that a life they had started was growing in her womb.

"How long will we stay here?" Alana asked him, voice quiet so as not to too greatly disturb the peace that settled around them.

Thorin let out a low hum. "I think we will wait for our craftsmen to arrive, to ensure their journey was safe and that they will be well housed and cared for, as the Steward promised. After that, we will not be needed, and so we can return home."

"Two months," Alana said musingly. "It is not so long a time, and yet... with it stretching out before me, I find I can focus on nothing but how far away it seems. I long to return to Erebor."

Thorin turned his body to face her fully, his expression earnest as he told her, "You have been here for a month already. You need not stay longer than you will."

"I do no wish to be parted from you again," she admitted softly. "And one of us must stay here. So no, I will not leave. I will enjoy the time that we have in this city, and when the time comes, I will make sure I have no regrets upon leaving this place."

Thorin nodded, giving her a gentle smile, and then returning his attention to her stomach. His other hand rose to join the first, as if to cradle her stomach. "He is growing quickly," he noted, sounded nothing short of delighted.

Alana snorted. "I should be almost twice as big as I am now," she told him, amused. "By human standards, this is slow indeed. I can walk down the street and many would not notice, which is unusual for a woman who is four months pregnant."

Thorin's lips quirked up. "Yet for a dwarf woman to show so much so soon is rare - you look like you should be at least a month further on."

Alana smiled, running her hand over her rounded stomach. "I will be interested to see whether he takes more after you or me," she said. Her face became pensive, then quickly transitioned to become almost mischievous. "What were you like as a child?"

Thorin's expression was amused. "Likely exactly as you imagine I was."

Laughing, Alana asked, "So you were equally as grumpy and scowling as you are now?"

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Thorin shook his head. "Not when I was very young," he said. "At least, that is what I have been told. I confess, I remember very little of my childhood years. What I do remember, I do so with fondness. Though I was raised with the knowledge that I was the Crown Prince and I should behave like one, I also had two younger siblings. I would play with them both as often as I could; at the time, I found my life as a Prince stifling, and would do all I could to avoid my duties. Still, I have always been more serious than the others in my family."

"For good or ill," Alana teased, grinning widely when he shot her an unimpressed look, though his eyes gleamed with suppressed humour. "I bet you were adorable when you were a baby."

Alana half-expected Thorin to become flustered, but he did not. Instead, he chuckled, and shot back, "I doubt I would have anything on you, _**atamanel**_. I have no doubt you could have melted the heart anyone that looked upon you."

"Well," Alana mused, eyes shining, "I think _that_ skill still exists. After all, it worked on you, did it not?"

Thorin's entire countenance softened in the blink of an eye. "Aye," he murmured. "That it did."

Alana felt that intense warmth bubbling up in her chest again, and when she leaned forward to touch her lips to his, it roared into an impressive flame. Thorin's lips responded with a gentle passion that was seldom seen in the usually fiery dwarf, his hold on her so careful and tender. Alana's hands moved to bury themselves in his hair, a soft noise escaping her when she felt the silky locks running between her fingers.

It could have been years before they finally pulled apart, their breathing spiked. The intensity in Thorin's stormy eyes had Alana's heart giving a particularly hard _thud_ in her chest, and a different warmth - one she recognised all too easily - rose up in her body. With a coy smile, Alana took Thorin's hand again and led him back into their chambers, fully intending to give him the welcome back he deserved.


	42. Warning Signs

**A/N: ... Please don't hate me... :)))))))**

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* * *

 **'I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends.' ~ Abraham Lincoln**

* * *

 **Chapter 42:**

Fili and Kili had been in Mirkwood for eight days thus far. They sat and dined with King Thranduil every evening, exchanging conversation that was polite but still a little forced, and during the day they were left to their own devices. The first few days they wandered the kingdom, exploring as much of it as they could, discovering all the nooks and crannies and secret little pathways that probably weren't so secret to the elves who'd lived here for millennia. Once they had discovered all they could, they could often be found in the training yard during the daylight hours. Despite the distinct lack of comfort between them and the elves, particularly in the beginning, a warrior was a warrior, no matter where they came from. The fact that Kili was the best dwarven archer in the east (perhaps even in the whole world) was a source of interest for many, and was the very thing that allowed them to meet Baralinor.

Baralinor had approached Kili as he'd been practising, Fili sat with a pipe in his hand on the stone bench to the side. At first glance, Baralinor had looked fairly normal for an elf. He had fair hair and a narrow face, and he wore traditional elvish clothing. As he neared, however, one key feature stood out to the dwarves - he had a very slight five'o'clock shadow. Being that his hair was naturally so light, it was easy to understand how one could miss it from afar. But the strangeness of seeing an elf with the beginnings of a beard had brought both dwarves up short.

"Well met, my Lords," the elf said with a bow, hand over his heart. "I hope you do not mind my intrusion."

"Not at all," Kili said with an amiable grin, being more at ease around the elves than his brother was. "What is your name?"

"Baralinor, my Lords," he replied, giving them a smile that seemed softer and more genuine than they were used to getting. "I have travelled here from Lothlórien, and when I discovered that my visit coincided with your own, I found I could not deny myself the opportunity to meet you."

"It's rare that an elf would seek us out," Fili commented, though his voice was not unkind. "We have been welcomed here, but many of your kin are uneasy in our presence."

Baralinor let out a cheerful laugh. "That may be true for most, my Lord, but I am unusual in many ways."

"One of which appears to be quite literally growing from your chin," Kili pointed out, grin wide and tone teasing.

With a smile of his own, Baralinor ran his hand over his stubble. "Yes indeed," he agreed. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that was the first thing you noticed."

Fili released a chuckle of his own. "It's hard not to when you're the first other bearded individual we've seen in what feels like an age, and the first bearded elf we've seen... well, ever."

Baralinor smile seemed to harden at the edges. "Ah, but that is another of my differences, my Lords, for I am half-elven." Fili and Kili both raised their eyebrows. The elf seemed to grow more uncomfortable, before he slowly explained; "My father was an elf, my mother a woman of Rohan. She was one of the first to live there after the land was made habitable by King Eorl. She was... something of a free spirit, I am told, and wandered into the realm of Lothlórien in search of discovery and adventure. The Lord and Lady gave her shelter, and it was there that she met my father. She died birthing me, and I have dwelled with my father ever since."

Fili's brows furrowed. "Rohan was only established a few hundred years ago," he pointed out. "You cannot be more than a few centuries old, in that case."

Baralinor nodded, his tension seeming to ebb away at their lack of judgement for his mixed blood. "No, I have only recently passed four hundred. I am young still, for an elf."

"Perhaps that is a good thing," the golden Prince murmured. "You have had less time to form prejudices against our kind."

The elf gave a crooked grin. "Well, I am pleased to tell you that I have inherited my mother's desire for adventure. I much prefer to see things for myself and make judgements on what I witness, than listen to the mutterings of my elders who - in my opinion - are too harsh in their views of others and too eager to cling to the memories of old wounds."

"That sounds familiar," Kili grumbled. Fili shot him a look, and the younger dwarf shrugged. "You can't deny it's true." He faced the openly curious elf and explained briefly, "Our uncle used to be the same. We grew up on stories of elves, and were constantly fed his... disdain of your kind. It's only since he met Alana that he's started to let go of his misgivings and learn to look past them."

"Alana being King Thorin's wife, yes?"

"You know her?"

Baralinor laughed. "The whole world knows of her by now, I don't doubt," he said. "Though I admit I have also had the personal pleasure of meeting her once or twice over the years. She has visited Lothlórien a few times since her childhood. I first met her when she was a sprightly young teenager who was chomping at the bit to explore the world. As I understand it, that was the first time her parents had allowed her to leave her village."

Fili and Kili exchanged glances, mischief dancing in their eyes. "That's the first we've heard of it," Fili muttered slowly, a grin growing on his face.

Kili instantly tagged on. "I don't suppose you'd have any... amusing tales to share of her time there, would you?"

With a grin of his own, Baralinor replied, "As it so happens... yes, I do."

* * *

Skirvur, son of Alvur, sent his reply back promptly. He, together with his brother, had picked a team of nine individuals to leave Erebor with them and make the long march south to Minas Tirith, where they would build the White City's new front gates. In the meantime, Thorin and Alana were to stay as the personal guests of the Steward, and to wile away their hours doing whatever they pleased.

Needless to say, despite both of them being more than pleased to be back in each other's company, they found the lack of duties or travelling to be more irritating than they'd have first thought. Their duties in Erebor kept them busy for many of the long hours of each day, and though they often mourned the fact they could not spend as much time together in private as they'd like, it had grown into a comfortable routine that kept them from being idle too long.

Equally, their days on the road meant that they were always on the move, even if they were doing nothing more than putting one foot in front of the other in a constant march towards their destination. They had to work for food and thus to survive.

Hence, this stagnancy was unusual, and though it was nice to have time to relax together without worrying for duties or the need to travel... after the first few days they became restless. Thorin, at least, was able to go to the training yard and tire himself out with a blade in his hand. Alana had no such luxuries - though Thorin's arrival had caused her maid to take a step back from keeping such a close eye on her, she'd likely still work herself into something of a flap if she caught Alana stepping even a toe towards the sparring rings.

So on the days when Thorin disappeared into the training yard, Alana would seek out Nivari and spend the day with her, or she would return to the Healing Halls, offering an extra pair of hands, as she had done before her husband's arrival.

The dull monotony of their time in Minas Tirith was changed quite abruptly one morning, fifteen days after Thorin's arrival. The two had woken up in the usual manner - to Alana's morning sickness making its presence painfully known. She had sat stooped over the basin for the better part of half an hour, throwing up last night's dinner so thoroughly that, for the last several minutes, she was getting nothing but bile. Thorin remained patiently behind her, keeping her long hair out of the way and rubbing his hand over her back in soothing circles.

Her sickness was more intense that morning, and left her stomach aching and the muscles in her lower abdomen spasming in a way that felt strange and unnatural. She was aware of the concerned expression on Thorin's face, and recognised that he, too, had noticed something was different this time. Still, he said nothing, and so she didn't either.

They intended for the next few hours to follow in much the same way as they'd done the previous two weeks - they'd spend a few minutes wandering the long halls of the Citadel, would stand in silence at the edge of the outside courtyard, looking out towards Osgiliath, and then would turn to have breakfast with the Steward and his family.

Thorin seemed convinced that young Denethor had taken fancy with her, and though he was not unkind to the Steward's grandson by any stretch of the imagination, his amusement at the boy's blushing and shy looks and out-of-character stuttering was clear to all. Most days, the dwarf King would receive a cuff on the back of the head or a sharp look of reprimand from Alana, but that seemed to do nothing to deter him from behaving so.

Once more, this day turned out differently. Alana cut short their early walk because she felt a sudden but painful cramping in her abdomen, which left her feeling light-headed and shaky. Thorin insisted they take breakfast in their room, sending his apologies to the Steward for their absence. But Alana could barely stomach more than a few mouthfuls of her breakfast, her skin paling and becoming an unhealthy colour that had Thorin's concern sky-rocketing enough for him to insist she visited the healers.

Only they didn't make it down to the sixth level before another wave of shakiness swept over her, causing Alana's legs to stumble and quickly buckle under her weight. Thorin was barely able to catch her before she hit the ground.

Alana was only vaguely aware of the bellows coming from Thorin's mouth, and the pounding of heavy and armoured feet as the nearby guards rushed to her aid. She felt suddenly very cold, yet her skin was sticky and flushed. A pang of warning went off in the very back of her mind, the healer within her recognising some of the signs of a fever, but it had struck her so quickly that - even delirious as she was - she could muster up the strength to feel fear. A heart-wrenching and potent fear. Fear for the life she held in her womb. For the child she had been caring for and helping to grow for months now.

"Alana," she heard Thorin's voice say, distant and muffled, and his distorted face appeared in her vision as he took her face in his hands. "You must focus on staying awake, _**atamanel**_. Do not-"

But she didn't hear the rest, her attention grabbed and held by another wave of crushing cramps. She felt sick again, could hear the groans and cries that escaped her body as the pain grew and multiplied. She wanted to curl towards the pain, to hold it and hope that it would be contained, but her body would not cooperate. She continued to grow colder, and the cramps continued to worsen, until at last, she could find no more strength to keep herself conscious.

She tumbled in the dark abyss with only an echo of her own screams in her ears.

* * *

Thorin looked haggard, and he knew it. He _felt_ it. Yet he could not dredge up the will to care. The bags under his eyes could grow darker, and his skin more sallow, and his hair more dirty, and he wouldn't give a damn if doing something about it would force him to leave Alana's side.

He couldn't get the memory of her agony out of his head. Her face as pale as snow, her eyes red and face wet with tears. He was convinced her wails would never stop ringing in his ears. They had been the worst, because they were more than just a result of her physical pain. She had been pleading, begging, but for what, he had not known at the time. Not until those specific words had ripped themselves from her lips.

 _No, please. Please! Do not take him from me!_

And that was when he had understood. Realisation had crashed down on top of him with the weight of an entire mountain range. Though Alana's training in the healing arts was far from typical, she would be able to recognise signs. Signs of the fever that now raged through her. Signs of... of an impending miscarriage.

No healer would be able to save a child once a miscarriage had already started, and in a single moment Thorin's heart had been shattered and pummelled so thoroughly into the ground that he felt he'd never be able to find and fit back together all the pieces. He'd been so distraught and wrapped in his sorrow and despair that he hadn't noticed Alana's body being lifted and carried away, the guards holding onto her as if she were a precious and fragile gem.

Thorin knew pain, and he knew sorrow, and he knew heartbreak. Better than most, he knew those things. But this was different. This was not the pain of losing a brother, or a father, or a friend. This was his son. His own flesh and blood. The fact the child was not yet born meant nothing to him; in Thorin's heart and in his mind, that baby was _alive_ in every sense of the word. His loss caused a chasm of cold sorrow in his chest so deep that the top was far beyond his sight.

It was only the animated sweep of thick robes that had caught his attention, drawing him from his dour thoughts. Thorin's eyes widened when he realised his wife was no longer in front of him, and frantic eyes scanned the area around him in search of her. She was nowhere to be seen. He did, however, catch sight of the disappearing form of the grey wizard, and quickly gave chase.

Gandalf had said nothing as Thorin caught up to him, the two all but storming through the streets of Minas Tirith. Left, right, and centre, people jumped out of their way, leaving their journey to the Healing Halls without interruption or delay.

Alana had been placed on a small cot in a private wing of the halls, her body sweating and her skin paler than Thorin had seen it in a long time. It reminded him rather sickeningly of the day they'd arrived at Beorn's, during the quest for Erebor. She'd been beaten black and blue, and her ankle a mangled, bloody mess, and her skin as pale as it was now. He remembered feeling a similar fear back then, had believed it unsurpassable... He only wished he had been right.

Thorin recalled shooting the healers dark looks when they asked him to leave - so much so that they had recoiled, eyes wide, and didn't dare ask again. He'd stood a tense statue in the corner of the room, ignored as three women fluttered around Alana's body, nearly shouting to one another about the need for water and towels and cloth, among other things. His eyes, however, remained on Gandalf. The grey wizard had seemed blind to the chaos going on around him, his focus completely and solely on Alana's ghost-like form. His hand hovered over her chest, directly over her heart, and the maia was muttering under his breath in a language completely alien to the dwarf King.

The wizard would not be moved when the healers returned, bearing the items they'd claimed to need, so with frustrated and likely not-so-friendly grumbles, the women set about their work around Alana's two stalwart guardians. Thorin had felt his knees shake when they stripped the sheets away from Alana's bed and lifted her skirt, revealing the large, dark blood stain that the thick material had previously been hiding. They'd then set about wiping her skin clean and stripping her completely of her dress, replacing it with a thin, white gown that only made her skin look that much more pallid. All the while Thorin had watched, and Gandalf muttered spells and incantations under his breath.

Thorin could barely remember the time that followed. It had seemed like days, and could well have been. His body grew tired and his stomach ached for food, but he did not move. Eventually, the healing women had run out of things to do, and so had left. Gandalf never ceased in his efforts, though it was clear he too was growing weary. Thorin had at some point moved to sit in the chair beside her, grabbing her hand and holding it in his, trying desperately to ignore how frightfully cold it was.

At long last, Gandalf heaved a long sigh. He straightened, groaning softly as his old bones creaked in protest of the first movement in Mahal only knew how long. Thorin had never seen him look so exhausted.

"I've done what I can to save the child," he said at length, and even his voice seemed weaker than normal. "But Alana's body had already begun the process of rejecting it, so whether or not it will remain saved is something even I cannot predict. We must trust in Alana's strength to hold on to the life she carries."

Thorin felt himself nodding. "Thank you." Even his own voice sounded foreign to him - echoing dimly in his mind in unfamiliar tones and sounds. It was weathered and croaky, dry and dead. It spoke of the crushing sorrow he was trying so frantically to fight off, and of the renewed hope he now prayed would not lead to his heart being splintered a second time.

Gandalf nodded, and then retreated from the room, no doubt off to find a place where he could rest his tired body. Thorin returned to his vigil, sat by Alana's side and holding her hand.

Frequently he would find his eyes flickering to the swell of her stomach, more noticeable now she was in such thin clothing. It looked no different than before, which he found strange, as if he was unconsciously expecting to seen signs of the turmoil her body had just undergone. But there was nothing. The evidence of the child beneath her heart remained unchanged.

With a slowness that betrayed his fear of accidentally causing further harm, Thorin moved to rest his hand on her belly. The mound felt just as firm as ever, just as solid. Every now and then, however, he felt the muscles in her stomach spasming, telling him all too clearly that it was not all over yet. There was still much that could change.

He felt a strange desire - nay, a desperate _need_ \- to speak words of encouragement to his son. To the child yet to be born into this world. His voice came out hoarse and cracked, but firm nonetheless. " _ **Binagnug gamz, azaghâlith. Mahiznig. Astu zasazkafrukîn uru'ala. (Stay**_ _**strong, little warrior. Be brave. You will triumph over this.)**_ "

And somehow, above the healers' feeble reassurances, and above the tentative words of comfort offered to him by Gandalf... Thorin found himself believing this. He believed that his son was strong enough - or, perhaps, stubborn enough - to get through this. He found himself knowing in a deep, hidden part of his mind that his son would endure, and Alana would heal in time.

And there was no possible measure to the relief that this brought him.


	43. Hope From Unexpected Sources

**A/N: Hiiii! I'm home for Christmas right now, sooo hopefully I'll be able to get some more frequent updates up. We'll have to see, as I am also editing two other stories alongside this, and writing another... In the meantime, enjoy chapter 43 (warning: there is more mushiness than normal...)!**

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 **RainAstiel: Wellllllll, they might do... ;) As for little baby... you'll have to wait and see**

 **ro781727: Yes, that's the story I went with for Baralinor's heritage. I didn't manage to get those stories in this chapter, though they might appear later on :)**

 **Rohirrim Girl 2178: Well, there's still hope...! ;)**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Wow, I hope Australia was nice! I probably couldn't stand to go there - too hot for me! And yes, I got that reference! (I am NOT a moron!)**

 **JollyRoger1: Weeeeellll, you'll just have to wait and see... ;)**

* * *

 **'Life is tough, my darling, but so are you.' ~ Stephanie Bennett-Henry**

* * *

 **Chapter 43:**

Alana woke sluggishly, her body feeling weak and her limbs leadened. Every muscle felt like it had liquefied and every joint ached in a way she could never remember having felt before.

Though her consciousness had returned, she felt too deadened in body to move - even her eyelids would not cooperate with her desire to open them. She remained locked in a prison with no light, when all she could do was listen to the world continue spinning around her.

She heard the shuffling of feet, the brush of fabric on the stone floor, and realised she was not alone. Most likely it was one of the healers, keeping her area clean. Next she became aware that one of her hands was significantly warmer than the other - almost to the point where it was sweating. She tried to wriggle her fingers, to move them away from the intense source of heat, but once more, nothing came of her efforts.

Then came a voice. It was quiet, soft-spoken, and unfamiliar to her. Nonetheless, she latched onto it, hoping to use it as an anchor so she could drag herself fully into the real world.

"Should we wake him? He has hardly left in three days."

Alana's heart thudded painfully in her chest, knowing at once who it was they were talking about.

"No," came the reply. "He has not slept in almost as long, and we both know he cannot bear to be parted from her. He will not thank us if we try to move him."

The first woman gave a low hum. "She is a lucky woman to have someone so devoted to her."

"Theirs is a love more pure than most. I was in the market when the King arrived. Lady Alana looked as if the stars themselves had appeared at her feet."

"It is only a shame what happened."

Alana's heart plummeted into her stomach even as the second woman said, "Have faith, Lennel. There is still hope yet. Mithrandir's magic may have been enough to save the child."

"Whatever the outcome," Lennel murmured as the sound of heavy footfalls appeared, and grew louder even as she continued to speak, "I only hope they are all strong enough to face what is to come."

"They are," said a new voice, gruff and curt, and once more Alana felt her heart leap to know she was not alone in this. The footsteps stopped. "Thorin and Alana have been through tough times together more than once. They _will_ get through this."

"But losing a child-"

"They will not lose him," Dwalin cut in, voice brooking no arguments. "That boy is a result of a union between two of the oldest and hardiest bloodlines in all Middle Earth. He has their strengths combined. He will cling to life, and when the time comes, he will be born a great and worthy heir of Durin."

The second woman spoke up once more. "You see, Lennel? You must not give up while there is still a battle to be fought, and strength remains in those who fight. This is not over yet."

Lennel huffed. "If that child survives, it'll be nothing less than a miracle. No amount of magic will change that." Her voice began to fade away as she moved, no doubt heading for the exit to the room. "Keep me updated, Faerveren, and call for help if you need it."

There was a moment of silence, before Dwalin's footsteps sounded again, getting closer this time. There was a pause, and then Alana felt a distinct pressure on her fingers. She realised only in that moment that the heat she had felt before was from Thorin's skin, as he had been holding her hand while he slept. And as he woke, his fingers tightened around hers.

"You are exhausted, Thorin," Dwalin said, his voice stern. "You've not eaten in too long. Go up to the Citadel, eat, wash yourself, and get some rest."

She could picture him shaking his head. "No, Dwalin. I will stay here."

"You've not left in near three days," Dwalin protested calmly. "No one is keeping you from her, but it should not be at the expense of your health." Thorin's hand suddenly disappeared from her own, and Alana fought a thrill of irrational fear spring up at the loss of contact. "Go, Thorin. I will stay with her until you return."

She heard Thorin release a long breath, before his slow steps shuffled away. There was a scraping noise as Dwalin settled himself in the chair beside her bed, and then there was silence again.

For several minutes, Alana wandered in a dark haze in her mind, trying to find a way to reconnect with her body, but it was like wandering through a maze that was constantly fighting back. Every attempt just led to a dead end.

Then came the voice of Faerveren again. "What did you mean?"

Dwalin grunted. "What did I mean when?"

"You said the child shares the blood of two strong bloodlines. King Thorin's is obvious. But what about Queen Alana's?"

Dwalin hummed, and Alana could tell he was considering his words very carefully. He knew that Alana wished to keep the truth of her lineage a secret, and it was doubly important in Gondor. "She is a descendant of the men of Númenor," he said at last. "Her family have been members of the dúnedain in the north for generations, and have survived despite many who would wish to harm them."

"Harm them? Who would desire such a thing?"

"The Rangers in Eriador have been devout protectors of all others who live there for centuries," Dwalin explained shortly. "Her family were among their number, and have been since the first days. They face many threats in their duties."

There was another shuffle on the floor, and then the fabric draped over Alana's legs grew taut, and she felt a weight settle beside her. She imagined Faerveren had sat herself down on the edge of the bed. "How did they meet? The King and Queen, that is. What happened?"

A huff came from the dwarf, though Alana couldn't tell whether it was because he was irritated by the woman's curiosity, or if something else prompted it. "In an orc ambush," he told her, and Alana heard the threads of amusement there. "Alana had been tracking them and saved his sorry hide when they moved to attack him."

Faerveren let out a bark of laughter that had Alana arching a mental eyebrow. "Master Dwarf, I have no doubt the whole world knows of King Thorin's prowess with a blade. Surely a party of orcs would have been little challenge for him."

"Nay, perhaps not," Dwalin agreed. "But the element of surprise can change the tide of any battle, big or small. And whatever advantages the orcs hoped to have were nullified by Alana being there. Maybe he would have been fine were he alone. But we cannot know for sure. Besides," there was a distinct smirk in his voice now, "I like having something to tease him about. And the fact his arse was saved by the same woman who would later become his wife on their first meeting is definitely good for that."

"You know him well, then?"

"Aye, better than most, I'd say. We've known each other most of our lives, and have been great friends just as long."

Faerveren's curiosity was clearly sated at that point, because she asked no more questions. Her weight disappeared from the bed, and a peaceful quiet came over the room once more. With a mental sigh, Alana settled in for what she imagined would be a long and dark few hours.

* * *

"Alana?" Fili asked incredulously as the trio made their way through the dense trees. " _Alana_ was shy?"

Baralinor gave a merry chuckle from atop his horse. "Yes indeed. Arathorn told me she'd had very little contact with elves before then, spending most of her childhood in her village, and only very occasionally travelling with him into Rivendell. It is quite a common reaction for those of the race of men to be... intimidated by us. Lady Alana responded to that by going to great lengths to avoid having to talk to anyone or interact with anyone, at least at first."

The two brothers exchanged glances, Kili smirking, Fili with a cocked eyebrow. "Well, she certainly grew out of _that_ ," Kili said with a laugh.

With a wry smile, Baralinor told them, "Not for a long time. In fact, I think a... certain accident helped to only drive that mindset deeper."

"Accident?" they piped up together, eyes gleaming with eagerness.

The elf seemed amused by their enthusiasm, and offered up his story. "As I said, Lady Alana would do anything and everything she could to avoid having to talk to one of us. Hide behind trees; change the direction she was walking; spend hours on end by the river; stick to her father's side as if she had been tied there... But the one that got her into the most trouble was when she could do none of the above, and she would jump out of the way of the elves coming her way. Quite literally." His lips twitched upward a fraction more. "There was one morning - roughly a week after she arrived - when the Lady Alana was walking along one of the flets in the lower city with her father. What the two were doing, I know not for certain, though they often took walks together. I was on the same walkway system, and approaching them. Behind them walked a group of four elves. It became quickly clear that the Lady was well aware of this, and chose to encounter just a single elf, rather than a whole group." Now even Baralinor's eyes were shining, alive with hidden humour. "And so as I walked passed them, Lady Alana did exactly as I just said - she ducked her head down to avoid eye contact, and skipped out of my way. Only, she either misjudged her jump, or had forgotten exactly where it was that she was standing, for the next thing I knew she was flailing her arms and teetering over the edge. I tried to help her, but since her instinctual reaction was to jump away from us..." He gave a merry chuckle. "Luckily, the Lady was able to catch herself on the edge of the flet before she fell all the way down. She was hanging by her fingers from the flet, face red as a morning sunrise, while her father and a stranger stood over her. Lord Arathorn was laughing so hard he couldn't move enough to help her up, and I feared how she would react if I tried to help her again, so she hung there for a long time. It was a spectacle that grew quite the crowd, as I'm sure you can imagine." Fili and Kili snickered, nodding in agreement. Baralinor grinned down at them. "Well, eventually, Lord Arathorn was able to calm his laughter and help her up. I don't think I've ever seen someone so embarrassed. She muttered a short apology to me for her reactions, and then turned and ran as if her shoes were aflame."

"That... is quite the first impression, if nothing else," Fili said, grinning. "With an introduction like that, I'm not quite sure how Alana ever managed to drag up the courage to face you again."

Baralinor smiled. "She didn't. Not for a while, at least. She and her father left shortly after, and I didn't cross paths with her for a few years, before she made the journey to the Golden Wood by herself. I was one of the first people she sought out - to apologise again. I could tell that she was much changed from the first time I met her, and she seemed to have gotten over her shyness. I am not sure I know her well enough to count myself among her friends, but we are amiable with one another, at the very least."

Kili shrugged. "Alana uses the term 'friend' fairly loosely and freely. I'm sure, if you've spoken to her more than once with no bad results, she'll consider you one of them."

The two continued to traverse through the woods, Fili and Kili on their ponies, Baralinor on his own horse. The two Princes were making their way back to Erebor, and Baralinor had asked if he could join them on their journey, at least until they reached Esgaroth. They had replied with the affirmative with no more thought than a shared glance.

At the edge of the forest, the group of dwarves that had travelled with Fili and Kili still waited. They'd been camping in that spot for several days now, and were all clamouring to start the journey home. To say they were surprised to have Baralinor travelling with them was an understatement. Some seemed about ready to protest his presence, but most just seemed wary of him. Only a few bothered to approach the elf, and even then, it was only ever to inquire about his growing beard.

Baralinor took all this in his stride, offering polite smiles but staying out of the way of his travelling companions. He didn't speak all that much, hovering at the back of the group. While Fili generally led the way back, Kili decided to keep the elf company. The two passed the hours in comfortable silence together, rarely bothering to break it. It was the longest Kili had gone without talking (save when he was asleep) for a long time, and no one bothered to complain about that.

Presently, Kili noticed Baralinor glancing at him in the corner of his eye. It had been becoming an increasingly frequent occurrence, and so at long last, Kili sent the elf a questioning glance.

"Forgive me," the elf murmured, clearly trying to keep his voice down. "I did not mean to be so obvious. But I wish to ask you a question, if you don't mind it."

Kili blinked. "Well, that would depend on the question, now wouldn't it? You can ask it, but I cannot promise I will answer."

Baralinor seemed to hesitate, opening his mouth and then closing it again. It was closest Kili had ever gotten to seeing an elf flustered, and it made his eyebrows rise. "I was wondering if, perhaps... you know King Thranduil's guard Captain."

Kili's eyebrows rose even higher. "Tauriel? Aye, we've met, and one day I'm sure we could become good friends. But why do you ask after her?"

Baralinor remained looking bashful, rubbing the back of his neck. "During my stay, I only caught passing glances of her, but... I fear she may have enchanted me."

A gentle scoff escaped the Prince. "She has that effect on many people," he grumbled. "Even me, for a moment." He tilted his head to the side. "But why are you asking _me_ about her?"

"I know you better than any of my kin in Mirkwood, and I have fewer reservations against asking you about it because of that." Baralinor pursed his lips, before admitting, "I wish to know more about her."

"I fear I am not the person you should be asking," Kili told him. "I myself know very little of her, save that she is fascinated by the world outside Mirkwood. She has had very little chance to leave its borders. Even the small things inspire her - starlight and moonlight, for example. She finds awe in all things outside the world she lives in, especially things found in nature."

Baralinor nodded his head thoughtfully. "It is a strange thought that she is so tied to her work and her duty that she is not allowed even the simple freedom of going outside her city's borders."

"Thranduil has spent much of his reign with little care for any lands outside of his kingdom. He does not send his soldiers out there. It is only recently, I think, that he has looked beyond the trees of Mirkwood. Perhaps Tauriel will now be given greater freedom. Perhaps nothing will change for her. But I know that, to her, duty will always come before her personal desires. It is just who she is." He hesitated, before saying, "Alana has told me a little about the culture of the elves. She says that female warriors are not uncommon, but to have a visible scar is something to be ashamed of. Tauriel has one on her cheek - it is deep and not insignificant. Alana says that many will think her beauty permanently tainted, and that she will struggle to find someone who will accept her, if she ever decides she wishes to search for someone."

Baralinor frowned. "It is a curious thing," he mused. "In Lothlórien we do not have guards who are female. I do not think there would be much protest if one chose to do that, but it simply isn't the done thing. But that the Lady Tauriel should have her chances of happiness with another taken away because of a scar - what is little more than a badge of her office - is a great unfairness. She deserves better."

Kili eyed him closely, though his expression was unreadable. "Perhaps," he said at length, "you should be the one to point that out. To her, and to the others around her. Prove to her that you believe that." He faced forward. "Tauriel will not give her heart easily; the Prince of Mirkwood sought it for some time, with no success. In the end, I think both of them are glad of that. I doubt Prince Legolas would have been able to leave his father's lands and explore the world if he and Tauriel had begun courting. And Tauriel would have ended up tied to the kingdom even more than she is now - being royalty does tend to make that happen." He looked over at Baralinor, and gave a crooked smile. "But you are from another realm. You grew up under different rulers, with a different culture. I'm sure Tauriel would welcome tales of your home, and your travels. If you wished to seek her heart... I think you would be in for a fighting chance."

Baralinor's face was serious as he nodded. "Your words encourage me, but it is not so simple as that. An elf's heart is as eternal as his body. Every feeling it experiences lasts longer than those of other races. Many of our kind are slaves to that - we hold onto anger far longer than most. But equally we experience love and happiness in the same way. An elf may fade if their love dies. To give over your heart in exchange for someone else's is no small thing."

Kili's eyebrows rose in surprise. "That... is not so different from us, actually." Baralinor tilted his head to the side, a clear sign of interest. "The first dwarves were built and brought to life by Mahal from the stone itself. We are slow to change. And while most dwarves would not die from the loss of their One, they would carry the grief with them forever. A dwarf's heart cannot love a second time. Some of our kind believe that we are destined to fall in love with a single person, that our hearts start as two halves, and only by meeting a specific person can they become whole. Others, me being one, believe that we have a choice in love, at least to some extent. We could fall for anyone, near or far. But once we do... it is forever."

"It is a beautiful thing," Baralinor admitted softly, "that such purity can exist in this world."

"Aye," Kili agreed. "And I imagine it is something people like you and I cannot fully comprehend without having experienced it for ourselves."

"Indeed not. Still, perhaps that day is on the horizon. For both of us."

Kili smiled. "I hope so. I have seen how it changes people; makes them happy. I would consider myself a lucky dwarf were I ever to experience it." Baralinor smiled over at him, nodding in agreement. Kili then looked up, eyes sparkling. "Oh, by the way..." Baralinor tilted his head to the side once more. "If you ever tell anyone we had this conversation, I will punch you so hard you'll be smiling out of the back of your head."

Baralinor let out a merry laugh, throwing his head back. "Consider my lips sealed, Master Dwarf. I will not say a word."


	44. Departure

**A/N: Yes, I know, this is a short chapter and it's been like a whole month since I last updated. I am SO sorry, but in my defence... it's been a pretty hectic month. Still, I've got another two weeks (almost) until my lectures start again so _hopefully_ I'll be able to have a more reliable and constant writing stream. We'll have to see. Anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter...!**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: PotterheadWhovianGleek96, Lil-B-Rebel, Alexandria139, A5mia, NeonMcQueen, firefaeshenanigans, decadenceofmysoul and freedom rings in a howl...!**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **RainAstiel: I always thought Fili and Kili would be generally more open to befriending elves. I'm glad you agree... ;)**

 **ro781727: That would be cool, but I'm trying to speed up the pace a little to get back them back to Erebor, so there's a bit of a time skip in this one. Still, I might try to get some Dwalin teasing in here at some point... :P**

 **Rohirrim Girl 2187: I know; and personally I think that's what his appeal is... XD**

 **JollyRoger1: Thank you...! :)))**

 **Arianna Le Fay (for chap 42): Nah, not an attack, just an unfortunate result of the baby having dwarf blood while Alana's human**

* * *

 **'Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.' ~ Victor Hugo**

* * *

 **Chapter 44:**

"You really shouldn't be up so soon, my Lady. Your body-"

"With all due respect, Lady Faerveren, if I do not leave this room within the next minute, I may have to kill myself in protest."

Faerveren drew back in startled shock, her mouth falling agape and her hands freezing in place as they hovered over Alana's arms. "I-"

"I would do as she says, Lady Healer," came an amused voice from the doorway. "Nothing will stop her once she puts her mind to something. And Alana always was a terrible patient."

"Speak for yourself," Alana grumbled in turn, though her voice had little bite to it. "At least _I_ didn't try to pretend I was fine when I'd _clearly_ almost been eaten by a warg."

"No," Thorin agreed dryly, "you just run from the healers at the first chance you get."

Alana rolled her eyes, accepting the arm he offered her, and two of them left the room with Faerveren staring after them with her face locked in an expression of utter confusion.

They walked in silence for a long time, making their way slowly but steadily through the maze-like Healing Halls. All around them people whispered and muttered, eyes tracking them everywhere they went. Healers jumped out of their way and bowed their heads politely, none of them daring to speak up about the fact that Alana was out of bed so soon. A few of those in the cots being tended were those that had been there when Alana had offered to help, and so gave her friendly smiles and the occasional wave - which she always made a point to return.

Neither of them said anything until they were out in the open, making their way up towards the Citadel of the city. People still watched them go, many being Lords and Ladies of the city, and so always interested in the goings-on of others. But Alana and Thorin ignored them all.

"What happens now?"

Thorin didn't look up at her as he answered, "The Steward has expressed his... understanding of our situation. And he agrees that it would be best if you are surrounded by people you know, who can help you. So, as soon as the healers deem you fit to travel, we will be heading home."

"And the group heading here from Erebor?"

"They know where they are going, and I believe that the Steward will keep his word and look after them. He has agreed to send out a messenger to tell them about the situation here, so they will know not to expect us."

"Thorin, I-"

"Alana," he cut in, his tone equal parts firm and tender. He stopped in the middle of the street, turning to face her and taking both her hands in his own. They were heedless of the curious buzz going on around them, the people having noticed their pause. "You should not be so far from home." He sighed. "I should have stuck to what my gut was telling me and convinced you not to come in the first place." He shook his head. "Regardless, you will not change my mind now. We will be leaving here, as soon as you are healthy enough. And we will take a safer road this time. I have sent word to King Fengel, and I have no doubt he will allow us to spend time there, to rest and recuperate as necessary."

Alana eyed him for a moment, before quietly reminding him, "If I hadn't come, we'd have never crossed paths with Gandalf."

Thorin sighed, lowering his gaze to the gentle mound that was her growing baby bump. "I will never be able to fully express the extent of my gratitude that Gandalf saved his life," he murmured, running his hands over the material of her borrowed dress, his hand forming the shape of her belly. Alana noted vaguely in the back of her mind that he'd been doing that a lot since he'd arrived in Minas Tirith - and no doubt her near-miscarriage would mean he was doing it all the more. "But perhaps it would not have happened at all if you had not put your body under the strain of travelling...?"

Alana gave a sad sort of smile, placing her hands over his. "Thorin, I had not travelled in almost a month. And we did not travel with any kind of haste even when we were moving. I do not think that had anything to do with it." Thorin's eyes met hers, a veil over his face. "We knew this could happen," she reminded him softly. "Oin warned us there was a good chance this would not go smoothly."

"That did not make the real situation any easier to deal with," Thorin admitted, releasing a long sigh. "I am simply glad that you are alright. Both of you."

"You and me both," she agreed. Then she smiled. "Now come. I have been locked up in that place for nearly a week, and I am dying to see Nivari again. Since you and Dwalin were the only ones they allowed in to see me, it has been far too long since I've seen her." She gave a light chuckle. "I'm almost tempted to say the healers here are more strict than Oin when it comes to visitors."

"Don't tell _him_ that," Thorin said, joining in with her humour. "He may take it as a challenge." They shared another laugh, before Thorin took her arm again and they continued walking. This time, however, they headed down through the city towards the lower levels, and made sure to keep their conversation light. There was no more mention of the tragedy that had almost struck them, and they contented themselves by pretending none of it had ever happened.

Nivari was in the market, as Alana knew she would be. The blonde woman wandered through the crowds as if in a daze, basket close to falling from her loose fingers. She spoke to no one, acknowledged none of those who shouted greetings to her. She moved as if she were a ghost.

"Nivari has been wrought with worry for you for a week," Thorin told her when he saw the furrowed-browed expression on her face. "She has had no news of anything since..." He looked up at her, a soft smile on his face. "I will leave you here, _**amrâlimê**_. There are still some things I must discuss with the Steward before we leave, and preparations to make." He gave her hand a squeeze. "I will see you at dinner."

"I'll be there," she promised, planting a soft kiss on his lips and then watching him start to make her way up the hill.

Her eyes swept over the market again, easily catching the white-blonde hair of her friend. She felt a sense of familiarity strike her, knowing this was almost exactly what had happened when she first met the woman - she had been standing mere feet from where she was now, and Nivari had been meandering just as effortlessly between the bustling crowd to pick up her food for the day. But even so, she was aware that things were different now, and she just hoped that it had not irreparably damaged their friendship.

Nivari's eyes met hers from the other end of the street, and even from such a distance Alana could detect the way they widened in surprise. She instantly started to duck and weave her way through the crowd, while Alana began to wander down to meet her.

She was surprised when, as soon as Nivari broke free of the people around her, she broke into a run. She barely had time to steady herself before the blonde threw her arms around her, openly weeping into the material of her dress, face buried in her hair. Alana wrapped her arms around Nivari in turn, muttering, "It's okay. Everything's okay," over and over in her ear; all the while letting her friend sob into her shoulder without complaint.

From on top of the hill, Thorin watched the scene with a smile on his face. It gladdened his heart more than words could express that Alana had made such a stalwart friend in so little time. She was surrounded at all times by people that loved her, but the size of her heart meant she had space for many more. He hoped now that she would maintain her friendship with Nivari - and if that meant bringing Nivari along with them to the north of the world, well... so be it. Alana deserved all the friends and family that she could get, by any means that she could get them.

His wife's joy fresh in his mind, Thorin turned and continued back up towards the Citadel.

* * *

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

Alana laughed, throwing a bunched-up skirt at her friend's face. "Of course I'm sure, silly. I wouldn't have given you the invitation if I wasn't sure."

"And Thorin-"

"Will be on the receiving end of more than a few angry words if he dares to say no," she cut in, though there was still a lightness to her tone. "But, I know that he will not. Having one more person travelling with us will not be a problem, I promise."

Nivari paused with her hands grasping a carefully folded green dress - one Alana recognised to be Rohirric craftsmanship. "I'm... scared," she admitted quietly. "I do not know if I have to strength to do this. As soon as I leave the gates, I... I will be leaving Tarrien behind. His memory, his dream... It was his idea to come to Minas Tirith, you know. He had all these plans, all these ideas and wishes. I just wanted to stay with him. But I've made a life here. A home." She looked up, eyes teary. "Is it a disservice to his memory to leave?"

"If you had wished to leave when he was still alive, would he have denied you? Would he have forced you to stay here?"

Slowly, Nivari shook his head. "No. If my need was great, he would have allowed me that."

Alana nodded. "Then you have your answer. If you feel you will be better off by leaving... then he would accept your decision." She swallowed, hesitated, and then approached her friend with an unusually serious face. "Nivari, I cannot possibly imagine how it feels to lose the person you love as much as you love him... but I do not think using his memory as something to hold you back is a good idea. Maybe leaving _would_ be something he'd try to dissuade you from doing, but right now, you need to make the right decision for _you_. Tarrien's views should not determine your actions. This is _your_ life, _your_ choice... and you should do what _you_ want to do."

Nivari stared at her for a long time, before saying, "You're right. You _don't_ know how it feels." She spun around, putting several feet of distance between them. The blonde woman started to pace the room, wringing her fingers in front of her in aggravation. "It's not easy, you know. Letting him go. Every fibre of my body is desperately trying to cling on to anything and everything that was his or... or meant something to him, in some way. We bought this house and made this life _together_. Living here by myself _hurts_ in a way I cannot put into words, and you couldn't possibly understand even if I could. But the idea of leaving it behind hurts just as much. I _don't know_ what I want to do. I feel like... like the two halves of my heart are pulling in opposite directions. There is no right answer for this. And I know that, no matter what I choose... I will _always_ wonder what would have happened if I'd done the other thing. I know I should let him go - Eru knows it's about time I did - but the thought of doing it _terrifies_ me. What if-? What if I forget the details of his face, or the sound of his laugh, or... or the way his eyes would scrunch up at the sides when he smiled?"

"If they mean that much to you, you'll never forget them," Alana told her. "I can still remember all the details of my father's face, and all those other things that at one time I took for granted. I cling on to them because I don't want to lose my memory of him. And I haven't. You won't too, I promise."

Nivari nodded, though she didn't meet Alana's gaze. With a saddened sigh, Alana stepped forward and wordlessly wrapped her arms around her friend, unsurprised that her hug was returned without a moment's pause.

She was unsure of how long they remained like that, Nivari's head bowed and buried in Alana's shoulder while she offered her silent comfort, but it was only after a long time that Nivari finally moved back. She offered up a tiny, grateful smile, before she went back to packing without a word. Alana did the same, maintaining the silence between them and knowing that Nivari would need some time to be sure of her choice, but also knowing that she wouldn't face any of it alone.

The thought had a smile stretching across her lips.

* * *

"Thank you for everything you have offered us the past weeks, Lord Turgon," Alana said, her arm linked loosely with the Steward's as he escorted her through the streets of Minas Tirith. The others had gone ahead to prepare for their imminent departure, taking their bags and packs with them. Thorin had already said his own farewells to the Steward, and so had gone with them.

"It has been my pleasure having you here, my Lady," he replied with an amiable smile. "And I hope this friendship of ours lasts for many years to come."

A smile of her own forming, Alana nodded. "I'm sure it will, my Lord. I am simply sorry we weren't able to stay to oversee the work on the gates being done."

Turgon shook his head at once. "I understand why you could not," he said. "And though it is a miracle your little one is still growing inside you, I understand your need and want to return home." He smiled. "It is all too clear how much King Thorin loves you. He did not leave your side for many days - the healers were very concerned about him."

Alana smiled. "So I heard," she muttered, though her voice was laced with gentle affection. "Such is the stubbornness of dwarves; and Thorin is worse than most."

"And yet for you to spend so much time with them and be so comfortable alongside them, surely you must possess some stubbornness of your own."

Alana may have been inclined to be insulted by that, if she didn't catch sight of the mischievous twinkle in Lord Turgon's eyes, and the smirk tugging at his lips. So instead, she laughed. "For better or worse, I suspect you are probably right."

Turgon slowed down as they reached the top of the first level of the city, causing Alana to do the same, wearing a confused expression as she glanced up at him. "I feel as if I have not yet adequately thanked you for coming to visit us, even in your condition. It must have been a difficult decision to make, but I am ultimately glad that you were able to make it down here." He turned to face her, a kind smile on his elderly face, and he took her hands gently in her own. "You are an extraordinary woman, Alana. Strong and smart, yet in possession of one of the largest, and most open hearts I have ever had the privilege to encounter. Whether we cross paths again or not, I am honoured to have made your acquaintance. You will do Erebor proud, I am sure."

Alana blinked, feeling her cheeks warm at hearing such sincere praise from the man, before offering a shy smile. "You honour me greatly, my Lord," she muttered in return. "And though my reign is still young, I hope I will live up to what you see in me." Her smile widened. "I too am glad to have met you. Your son spoke highly of you when he came to visit us for Thorin's coronation - and I am pleased to learn he did not lie or exaggerate. You are a great man, my Lord. And a good one. It is no wonder that Minas Tirith thrives as it does, and your people love you as much as they do."

Turgon returned her smile. "Thank you, my Queen. I will endeavour to keep things that way."

The two then started walking again, Alana's arm still linked with his. The crowds parted around them, many of the people offering quiet 'My Lord's and 'My Lady's and bowing their heads. By the time they reached the gate the dwarves were clearly ready to go, packs on their shoulders and fully armed. Nivari had her own bag, though she was not able to take everything with her. She had packed the clothes she'd need, a few sentimental items, and a little food that would last. The rest, she had left in her house to be sold. Alana had managed to arrange for the coin she was owed for the sale of her things and house to be sent to her after she had found a new home.

Alana accepted her pack from Nyr with a smile, and though it was heavy, she had a feeling she was getting a lighter load than the others. She said nothing, knowing that arguing would get her nowhere. Not this time. Not with what had so nearly happened.

"May your road home be safe and easy," the Steward said to the group, bowing his head politely as Thorin moved to stand beside Alana. "I will look after your kin when they arrive, and ensure they have all that they need for their return journey. You have my word."

Thorin tilted his head to the side. "Thank you for allowing us to stay, my Lord. Those travelling down here are bringing with them one of our ravens; should you or they need to send word to us quickly, that is the best way to do it."

Turgon nodded. "I shall."

With that, Thorin gave a final incline of his head, before he turned and began leading the group out. Alana offered a smile to the Steward, before she followed him out, wrapping her arm around Nivari's shoulders as she passed her. She could tell that Nivari still wasn't completely certain she'd made the right decision, but she endeavoured to go on nonetheless. Alana wanted to make sure that the blonde always knew she had someone she could talk to if she needed to. Nivari's hand lifted to grab Alana's fingers, giving them a soft, grateful squeeze, clearly understanding the meaning behind Alana's actions.

The group was silent as they passed through the wooden gates of Minas Tirith, the anticipation that accompanied the start of any new journey thick in the air. Alana just hoped it would go better than the journey down had gone.


	45. Emerging Friendships

**A/N: Shorter chapter this time. It was going to be longer, but I figured the next bit I wrote was better suited to start off the next chapter, so cut this one short. Hope you enjoy :)**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: GoGreen43, AlexRS, Willow310, Havvah, HadesAngel, wweharry pottertwilight fan, and MRJo305. :)))))**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **ro781727: I'm glad you agree - I wanted to show the Stewards as the kind and honourable people I'm sure the vast majority of them were. And well... maybe... ;)**

 **RainAstiel: 'The school monster'... XD I'm not sure I've ever heard a more accurate description... :P**

* * *

 **'You have to taste a culture to understand it.' ~ Deborah Cater**

* * *

 **Chapter 45:**

Kili couldn't help but let out a laugh at the expression on Baralinor's face.

"You look like a kid in a toy shop," he said.

And indeed he did. Baralinor's eyes were wide with wonder, his mouth agape - though not outrageously so - while his head swivelled this way and that so fast Kili wondered how he was able to see more than an incomprehensible blur. Dale had truly flourished in the last year or so, once all the building work had been completed. The market was vibrant and lively, filled with the calls of vendors and a mixture of many different scents - not all of them as pleasant as others. Children ran and whooped with joy as they raced between the bodies of the bustling shoppers. And it was in Dale alone that there was such ease between the races of men, elves and dwarves - for people of all races wandered the streets, exchanging polite conversation and, sometimes, even laughing and merry-making together. It was here that three separate worlds seemed to merge, and Kili would bet there was no other such place in all of Middle Earth where such a sight could be found.

"I _feel_ like one," came Baralinor's slightly breathless response. "This place is beautiful. So full of light and colour and _life_." He chuckled. "It is somewhat different to what I am used to."

"You should see it in the summer," Kili said with a laugh. "The market spreads to fill three more streets, and there are hundreds of people here. We haven't quite reached that point yet - soon, though."

The elf grinned. "Then I may stay here until then. It seems a marvel to experience."

"Certainly it's not terrible." Kili caught sight of the look Fili was giving him from further down the road, and knew that it was time for them to be moving. "Well, it looks like I have to be off."

Baralinor looked a trite disappointed, though he did well to hide it with a friendly smile. "Of course, _mellon nín_. You must be eager to get home."

Kili shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose. Mainly it's Fili that needs to be getting back - Thorin and Alana have him acting as regent while they're gone, so even travelling to Mirkwood was toeing the line a little bit. Luckily, mother was able to keep an eye on things while we were gone." He paused, glancing at his older brother again. "Still, I would like to see her again. See all of them, actually."

Nodding his understanding, Baralinor tilted his head to the side. "Then I will hold you here no longer. Thank you for your company these last days, and your friendship."

Kili grinned. "When you finally get around to deciding how long you want to stay here, be sure to let me know. I may have the chance to meet you every now and then - show you the best places to hunt, and so on. The land around here is full of opportunities, if you know where to look for them."

Smiling, the elf bowed his head. "I look forward to it." He pressed his hand over his heart, then extended it towards the Prince in a traditional elvish farewell. " _Galo Anor erin râd gîn. (May the sun shine on your path.)_ "

Kili laughed. "I have no idea what you just said, but I'm gonna go ahead and assume it was something nice, anyway." He bowed in return, lips quirking up at the sides. " _ **Mukhuh Mahal udnîn zu ra sanzigil umkhûh zu. (May Mahal keep you and mithril find you.)**_ "

Baralinor chuckled lightly, and Kili grinned in return, before the dwarf spun on his heel and marched down the road to catch up with his kin. He felt strange over his parting with the elf - he had never become friends with one before, and though he knew he considered Baralinor as such in his mind, he wasn't sure how to respond to that. How would a friendship between an elf and a dwarf work? Were there different rules he should be aware of, or was it the same as his other friendships?

Kili made a mental note to ask Alana about it the next time Fili received a letter from them.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you, of all people, were the first to befriend an elf," Fili said as a greeting as Kili fell into step beside him.

Kili frowned. "What do you mean, me of all people?"

"Just that you've always been more open to it than most," his brother replied, shrugging. "You were more comfortable than the rest of us in Rivendell, I think, and you made steps towards befriending Tauriel in Mirkwood." He sent his brother a reassuring look. "It's not a bad thing. In fact, I reckon it'll come in handy in the future. I didn't dislike him, by any means, but I sense his personality and interests are more aligned with yours than my own."

Kili narrowed his eyes at Fili for a moment, waiting for Fili to start teasing him, but his brother seemed completely genuine. Eventually, he gave a shrug of his own. "I guess he just didn't seem very... _elven_ in nature to me. He didn't act like immortality made him automatically better, you know? I feel like there's often an undertone of that whenever other elves are nearby, and that's the thing that - for me at least - puts me on edge." He paused, then suddenly let out a bark of laughter.

Fili frowned bemusedly. "What?"

"Sorry, sorry," Kili said, grinning. "I just imagined what it would be like if some more of our... _traditional_ friends ever met an elf.

" _Traditional friends_?" Fili repeated, frowning. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

Kili shrugged. "Well, you know... The ones who are more likely to cling to old grudges and refuse to accept the elves as our allies. People like Gimli, for example."

Fili shared in his amusement. "If Gimli ever befriends an elf I'll eat my own hat."

Kili blinked. "Do you even own a hat?"

Rolling his eyes, the blonde grumbled, "That wasn't the _point_ , Kili." Kili just laughed again, and soon Fili joined in, their merriment lost in the hustle and bustle of Dale's busy market streets.

* * *

The White Mountains were topped with red-gold as the sun set, the peaks a vibrant shade of orange that made them look like they were aflame. They'd been on the road for just over a week, travelling along the North-South Road between Minas Tirith and Edoras. They didn't meet many others on the road, but they had crossed paths with a merchant party and a group of Rangers who had been camping in the Druadan Forest. None of the Rangers had ever met Alana before, but they recognised the style of her garb and did not offer any resistance to the group. The merchants had barely even acknowledged them at all, though no one really complained about this.

They were camping half a mile or so south of the road, a small campfire lit and trees all around them. The Mering Stream flowed not far from their camp, so each took the chance to splash their faces with water, though no one bothered to clean themselves as thoroughly as Alana and Nivari did. Having taken up her previous role, Makaylen accompanied the two towards the river. She ended up sitting against a tree and keeping an eye on them, all the while listening out for danger and twirling a knife in her fingers.

Nivari was clearly very conscious of her bareness as the two cleaned, her shoulders hunched and body almost constantly submerged in the water despite its chill. Alana had no such worries, though she had noticed her friend's discomfort and so did her best not to look in the blonde's direction.

"Is it always like this for you?" Nivari asked.

Alana paused, having been about to dip her head back and soak her hair in the river, and instead tilted her head towards the blonde. "What do you mean?"

Nivari gave a small wave of her hand in the general direction of where Makaylen was sat. "Having someone accompany you everywhere you go. I mean... you don't even get privacy to bathe. Doesn't that bother you?"

Alana shrugged. "Not really, no," she said. "As I'm sure you've noticed, dwarves' ideas about privacy differ greatly from those of men, and I've adapted to them easily enough. Makaylen's job is to look after me - though I hope by this stage it is more than just a job to her - and she takes that task seriously. I don't mind that she is here. If anything, when I am bathing is when I am in most danger, as I cannot easily reach my sword and am slowed down by the water." She shrugged. "I remember it being a little strange at first, before I became Queen, but... Like I said, I'm used to it at this point. It's normal for me."

Nivari gave a tiny smile. "I guess I have a lot to learn about dwarves, huh..."

Alana hummed thoughtfully. "Only if you want to. You're not obligated to go out of your way to do so, though I doubt anyone would object if you wanted to learn more about it. Even if you don't, I'm sure you'll start picking things up just by being in such close proximity with us for a while." She tilted her head back, letting the cool water run through it, though continued to talk. "Dwarven culture can be complicated at times - honestly, there are some things even I don't fully understand. I do my best, of course, but there's only so much you can learn in two years."

Nivari nodded, pausing to let Alana straighten once more, and then asked, "And what about your son? I mean... he is half human."

Alana smiled. "True. I won't overlook that part of his heritage, and I plan to teach him some of the customs of my own people, but he will be raised in Erebor. He's going to be growing up surrounded by his dwarven kinsmen. Unless he specifically chooses to follow in the footsteps of my forefathers, he will be - in all intents and purposes - a _dwarf_. Besides, he may one day take the throne from my nephew, so if he is to do that, he needs to have a good understanding of his people."

Nivari gave a tiny smile, fingers rising to draw her hair over one shoulder and play with the pale strands. "I sometimes forget that you are royalty," she admitted, then glanced over at her friend. "Is that a bad thing?"

Alana tilted her head to the side. "It's neither here nor there," she said. "Though I suppose that I am glad you see me for more than just my title."

"What's it like?" Nivari took a step back so she was further into the water and only her head and shoulders were above the surface. "Being a Queen, I mean? What... what does it entail, exactly?"

Alana huffed. "In a word: patience. A whole lot of it."

"But what do you _do_?"

The Ranger glanced over at her, expression perplexed. Still, she answered the woman's curiosity. "I just... help people, I suppose. Most mornings Thorin and I attend a council meeting, where we discuss all manner of things from treaties with other kingdoms to whether or not we should provide extra care to the homeless. Usually the meetings don't last very long - new issues don't appear every day, and the ones that do are not normally very serious. Thorin has put me in charge of the well-being of the miners, so at the end of every week I go down to help them and see how they're getting on; and they know they can find me at any time if they are in urgent need of me. I am also in charge of making sure those under our employ are paid fairly and on time, that they have all the resources they need to do their jobs, and that there are no other issues at hand. Other than that, I mostly just... talk to the people - the ones who weren't born into powerful or rich families. The miners, the servants, the guards... The ones people tend to call 'commoners'. I am hoping to introduce someone new into the council who has a better connection with those types of people than even me, because Erebor can look quite different from the perspective of someone who has to work for a living, or even fight to survive." She shrugged. "Maybe it's different in other kingdoms, but that's how it is for me. My official duties take priority - if we need to go into council in the afternoon, then we do, and I make sure to attend every one. It's only an occasional thing that we have to make journeys to our allies - and even then, it is usually only as far as Dale."

Nivari blinked at her. "You have to do all that... every day?"

Alana nodded. "It seems overwhelming at first, but I got used to it very quickly. It's good, I think; I like being kept busy."

"Do you never have time for yourself? To do the things you enjoy doing?"

"Of course I do," Alana laughed. "Weekends are often easier, and there are often quiet days dotted here and there. Those are the days I will go into the training yard, or spend time with my family and friends, or visit the orphanage, or-"

"Orphanage?" Nivari asked, frowning.

Nodding slowly, Alana mirrored her expression. "Yes, the orphanage. Is... there a problem with that?"

"No, no, not at all, I just... I suppose I am just surprised. I never really considered..."

Voice taking a slightly harder tone, though not consciously, Alana pointed out, "Dwarves can die before their time, just like any others. And though there are blessedly few of them, there _are_ children with no parents. Thorin and I employ three fine dwarves to look after them - and they have to do so every day, because the children require constant care. They are great people - boundlessly kind and gentle - but children can be exhausting, and so I go in and try to ease their burden every two weeks or so."

"It is not that," Nivari murmured, lowering her eyes. "It's just... Minas Tirith doesn't have an orphanage. All the homeless - child and adult alike - simply live on the streets. And my village in Rohan never needed one. If a child lost their parents, the community would come together to look after them. The idea of an orphanage is... strange to me. Unbelievable, really. Theoretically speaking, I knew they must exist _somewhere_ , but... I guess it just felt like they were the sort of thing to only exist in stories meant to provide hope. Hope that there is somewhere safe for everyone. But I never really saw that translate into real life."

Alana sighed. "Children are expensive," she said slowly. "They require constant care and attention. And, unfortunately, too many of the people who can really make a difference are too attached to their coin to spare some."

"But you're not..."

Alana shook her head. "Erebor is over-flowing with gold. We gain more every day through trade and from the mines than we generally spend. And children are _beyond_ precious to the dwarves. The value of a child is greater than that of gold or jewels, without a shadow of a doubt. They deserve to be given love and care, to grow up as any child should. There are some things I had to convince Thorin of in the early days, but this was not one of them. He was adamant this would happen, and no one dared to disagree. Even those hesitant to spend their gold knew that the lives of these children were worth every coin." She smiled. "Besides, maybe one day they will become something truly remarkable. It's not our right to take away that potential by not providing them with the ability to grow up in relative comfort."

Smiling softly, Nivari said, "You know, the way you speak of it, Erebor sounds like a paradise."

Alana laughed. "Well, I may be slightly biased in my opinion of it, but frankly, I think it is. It is flawed, of course, as all things are. And the dwarves are still healing and recovering from the war two years ago. But I think, if a _true_ paradise were to ever exist, it would most likely be there." She chuckled. "But remember; a paradise for one could be a living hell for another. Everything is down to opinion, and opinions change from person to person."

Nivari hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose so," she said at last. "I don't think I could live in a mountain, if I'm being honest. Not being able to see the sun for hours at a time, or hear the birds in the trees, or feel the wind on my face... I couldn't imagine it."

"I wasn't sure I'd manage, either," Alana admitted, wading through the water back towards the bank. "I had spent my whole life living in places constantly bathed in sunlight. But Erebor is not as dark as you might think, and there are pockets of sunlight that are fed into the halls from the outside." She smiled gratefully when Makaylen passed her the scrap of material the three women were using as a towel, getting to work drying off the water from her skin before she got too cold.

Behind her, she heard Nivari start moving towards the shore as well, though refrained from glancing back. She knew Nivari would likely still be uncomfortable being so bare to the others. "Even though I most likely won't end up living there, will you let me see it?" Nivari asked, the sound of the sloshing water quieting, and thus informing Alana the blonde had halted.

"Of course," Alana promised, smiling. She glanced back long enough to pinpoint where Nivari was and passed her the makeshift towel, before she began tugging on her clothes. "We can explore as much as you want, though I would like to first introduce you to my family and friends. They can be quite boisterous, but I think they will like you."

"I hope so..."

Sensing the trepidation in Nivari's voice, Alana pulled on her outer tunic and then turned to face her. Nivari had wrapped the cloth around her body to give her some modicum of modesty, though there were still little droplets running down her skin. Alana stepped towards her friend and placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

"You have no reason to worry, _mellon_ _nín_. You will find your place in the north, and make friends of your own." She smiled kindly. "And I will always be there if you need me."

"I know," Nivari whispered, returning the smile and placing her hand over Alana's, giving it a squeeze. "Thank you."

Alana nodded, then let her hand slip off Nivari's shoulder. "I will leave you to change and head back. Shout if you need anything."

Nivari nodded. "I will."


	46. The Stirring of Evil

**A/N: I had serious trouble with this chapter. I wrote and rewrote it several times, starting completely from scratch twice. It's finished now, but if it doesn't seem quite up to standard, I apologise, but that is why. Hopefully things will be better. They arrive in Edoras next chapter...!**

 **Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: Erza101697, LazyWolfWriter, Ktk1477, Saphira Elise, BubblyFirefly47, thecowismad, Alaina Kuski, Alixandra Lee Perkins, Kahleesi82, Emmom, LiaLoveFood, Lara Barnes, erinjoypangelinan, shawnta. horton, sayachan01, silverhawk88, kanna-yamamoto, animeluvr4everndalwayz2014 and argxntshenko! Wow, that's a longer list than I've had in a while! (Nothing at all to do with the fact it's been over a month since my last update... naaaaaahhhhhhhhh...)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **RainAstiel: I'm glad you say that, 'cause here's another peaceful one... :P**

 **ro781727: I did think about it for a while, but I think she'd be more comfortable in Dale. She'd be around other humans, and she'd be more familiar with their culture. That's not to say she won't spend a lot of time in Erebor, but I don't plan on having her live there...**

 **CheekyLittleFoxy: Well howdy! Yes I did miss you, it's good to see your name again :) Glad you're getting on with the idea of Nivari, and I hope you continue to do so ;)**

* * *

 **'The Eagle has no fear of adversity. We need to be more like the eagle, and have a fearless spirit of a conqueror.' ~ Joyce Meyer**

* * *

 **Chapter** **46:**

The air was pleasantly warm, the wind blowing down from the north and thus directing the cold air hovering over the White Mountains away from them. They had made it into the Eastfold during the day, and Thorin was hoping they'd make it to Edoras by evening the day after next. Alana wasn't so sure they'd made it - though they'd been making good progress, they were still many leagues from Rohan's capital. She thought they would get there by around noon the day after Thorin's prediction, though she kept this thought to herself; Thorin wouldn't have been happy with her disagreeing with him, especially since it was over something particularly unimportant.

Their journeying so far had been mercifully without trouble, and everyone seemed to be becoming gradually more comfortable with each other. Makaylen and Nivari were constantly at Alana's side, and thus she was able to bear witness to the blossoming of their friendship. They didn't have all that much in common, but they got along famously all the same, and seemed to enjoy whenever they got into heated debates about anything they disagreed on - which was a lot, as it turned out.

Thorin, too, was often at her side, though she was grateful he didn't hover as much as she feared he might. The near-miscarriage she had gone through had left them both shaken, and Alana had thought it would mean he would become overly protective and cautious. He kept a close eye on her, to be sure, but not so much that it felt stifling. In fact, she felt safer because of it, even though they both knew there was little he could do should disaster attempt to strike again.

Dwalin and Nyr were a peculiar duo as they walked side-by-side, usually a pace or two behind Thorin. Dwalin was a stoic dwarf of few words, while Nyr was lively, chatty, and had a demeanour so optimistic he could give Bofur a run for his money. Dwalin would spend most of the day in silence, while Nyr chattered almost nonsensically about every topic under the sun. The strange thing was... Dwalin didn't seem to mind. Whenever Alana glanced back at him, she would find him with his eyes forward, but his ears turned towards his cheerful walking companion. She decided that there could be only two possible reasons for the fact Dwalin hadn't tried to decapitate Nyr out of annoyance yet: first, the old warrior had had a sudden and suspicious change of heart that left him _far_ more patient than he had been before, or, second... Nyr had some kind of passive magical ability that made it almost impossible _not_ to like him, and put up with his boundless energy. Personally, she thought the latter was more likely.

The last three of the group - Cathan, Rogvi, and Haldur - trailed at the back of their procession, speaking only odd sentences and only ever about practical things. Despite all the attempts Alana had made at the beginning of the journey to get to know everyone, she had not reached the same level of comfort with these three than she had with the others. Especially Rogvi, who - despite having fought alongside her and having his life saved by her - was still cold and generally distrusting towards her. She didn't mind, as such, as their interactions were few and she knew that, when it came down to it, he would protect her as stalwartly as any of her friends. Still, it often left those three on their own, behind everyone else.

This group was not as tight-knit as the Company had been.

The moon and stars were particularly bright that night, the sky clear of all clouds. Though it was now within the first days of spring, the air was still cold at night, and so each of them were wrapped up in their coats. Nivari, who was less resistant to chill than all the rest, was huddled close to the fire, trying to absorb as much of its heat as possible without getting burned by it.

Alana, her temperature still being affected by her pregnancy and thus warmer than normal, stepped up to the blonde and draped her cloak over Nivari's shoulders, giving her a pointed look when it looked like she would complain. Instead, Nivari gave an almost shy smile and wrapped the cloak more tightly around her shoulders.

When Alana returned to sit down beside Thorin, she was unsurprised when he pulled her flush against his side, pulling his own cloak so it covered them both. Though the whole motion wasn't necessary, Alana didn't complain - it gave her an excuse to be close to him. Not that she needed one.

" _ **Za'sti sakmathiye? (Will you sing for me?)**_ " Thorin's voice was a low caress against her ear, his words only for her to hear. She turned her head, a surprised frown on her face. She was quickly distracted, however, by how close they were. Their lips were barely an inch apart, their noses a hair's breadth away from brushing. His eyes were dark and intense as he gazed at her. " _ **Asti sakmathiya ibnumul. Amrul za saklitiya kemathzi gagin. (You sing beautifully. I would love to hear your voice again.)**_ "

"What do you want me to sing?" she asked him, a tremor in her voice.

"Anything," he said, his breath fanning over her face. "It can be happy, sad, long, short... I merely wish for it to come from your lips. Will you grant me this wish, _**atamanel**_?"

A smile appeared slowly on her face. Thorin did not often make such requests of her. Singing could be a very private thing, and there was great meaning when one requested a song specifically _for them_. Like many things, this was something that appeared in almost all cultures, but somehow the dwarves had a strange ability to make it seem a hundred times more special, more intimate...

Alana didn't hesitate to oblige.

" _Orthannen im vi ól  
_ _Coll e dû  
_ _Or hiriath naur  
_ _Na rovail mae sui 'waew  
_ _Man prestant i ardhon?  
_ _Cerithar aen illiad dim úthenin?_ "

Throughout her song, the camp was silent. Alana's voice was not as fair as that of the elves, nor as strong as that of the dwarves, but she _felt_ the words as she sang them, and the others could hear that. It was enough to leave Thorin enchanted, and the others drifted into a thoughtful silence which remained beyond the ending of the song.

"What did you sing of?"

Nivari was the first to break the silence, though her question was tentative and gently-spoken, as if she was worried she might offend someone by the fact she had spoken at all. But she was not the only one to look over with curiosity - all the others did as well, and even Thorin tilted his head to look at her.

Alana smiled softly. "It is a hymn for the eagles of Manwë. They are bearers of the light, and have always been an enemy of the dark powers in this world." She smiled, though her eyes were tilted downward. "For me, they are a sign that all will be well. Thrice in my life they have appeared, and thrice they have helped to defeat a great evil that might otherwise have overcome me."

"Two of them I know," Thorin murmured, frowning. "But what of the third?"

Alana gave a sheepish smile. "I was wandering the lands north of the eagles' eyrie, in the Misty Mountains. I was not far south of the River Rushdown, I think. It was night, and I was searching for a place to make camp when I was beset upon by a cluster of orcs. They were armed and armoured, more so than most you find that far west, and I was young and brash. I'd been in the wild less than a year, and was too sure of myself and my abilities. The group was not skilled, and not overly large, either. But I didn't pay enough attention, and one of them was able to slip away from the rest.

"I had just finished dispatching the first group when the beast returned - with a small army of goblins. There must have been a hundred or more, creeping out from their caves. Goblins are tricky creatures to fight, as they are more reckless and less predictable than orcs, and I was fighting in the dark. I was surrounded too quickly to flee, and so I was forced to face them.

"Needless to say, even as arrogant as I was, I knew this was a battle I couldn't possibly win on my own. Their numbers were simply too great, and I was tired from the first battle. I tried my best, though, and I got through what was probably about a quarter of them before I really started to struggle. Their attacks would come closer to killing me, and mine would have a greater chance of missing. I remember my will to keep fighting waned more quickly than it had before, such was the despair that filled my heart, and I accepted that I would die there.

"I heard them before I saw them. The beat of their great wings, their cries that pierced the air. I don't know what it was that drew them to the skirmish. Perhaps they were simply in the right place at the right time. Perhaps they had seen the goblins, from their eyrie, and had come to make the most of the opportunity. Either way, their arrival saved my life.

"The dark made it so I could barely see more than a few shadows as they swooped and dived. The goblins were quick to turn their backs, trying to make it back to the caves, but they never got far. The eagles were simply too fast. They were there barely a minute, but every goblin was wiped out. And then... they just left. They didn't bother with me. But I will never forget that moment. Like I said, they saved my life."

"I have never even glimpsed one," Nivari said, a tone of longing to her voice. "I have heard stories, though - as I'm sure most people have. Sometimes it is hard to believe creatures of such purity can even exist."

"Where there is darkness, there is also light," Alana said with a simple smile. "After all, a shadow is just a result of light being blocked."

"But darkness can exist on its own," Nivari muttered, frowning. "Like you said, shadows are just an absence of light. But light will _always_ cause shadows _somewhere._ Darkness can exist without light, but light cannot exist without darkness. It's a scary thought, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," the Ranger agreed with a shrug. "But the world is not as black and white as that. There are creatures of pure light and pure darkness, but the vast majority of us have the potential to be either, or perhaps, even both. Each of us is bound by our choices - to chase the light, or hide in the dark. And of those with a choice, most choose the light. The world is not as bleak as it could be, and we have to believe that people will continue to make the right choices and keep it that way."

Nivari bowed her head, voice small. "I'm scared," she confessed. "Rumours from all over the world have spoken of a rising force of great evil, one with the power to put an end to all life in this world." She lifted her head, eyes wide and imploring. "Are they wrong?"

Alana pursed her lips, before slowly shaking her head. "No, they are not."

Everyone in the group stirred at that, looking at her with the same expression of horror that was written on Nivari's face.

"What are you talking about, lass?" Dwalin piped up, brows furrowed deeply.

Alana sighed, looking down again and tangling her fingers with Thorin's. He gave her hand a firm squeeze, though she could tell that he, too, needed to hear her answer. "We - the Rangers of the north, that is - have been watching Mordor for several years now. In the last decade or so, the number of orcs getting past Gondor's defences has increased at an alarming rate. The goblins within the cave systems in the Misty Mountains have been growing more bold, more agitated. The trolls we met on the road to Erebor were considerably further south than they habitually would be, and they were not the first to venture so far. So, we decided to investigate, and we noticed the shadow that had drifted over the lands to the east of the Misty Mountains. There are stirrings behind the Mountains of Shadow, though little moves in or out of that land that we have noticed." She sucked in a shaky breath, causing Thorin's hold on her hand to tighten in an attempt at reassurance. "Shortly before the battle for Erebor, Gandalf travelled to Dol Guldur with the White Council to confront a being known as the Necromancer. They weren't sure what it was exactly, this thing, but they were sure it was the reason for the darkness that had sunk its claws into the roots of the Greenwood. And Gandalf had his suspicions, which he had mentioned to the Council before, but which had been overruled. It was two years ago that it became imperative they attack the fortress - Gandalf was worried this Necromancer would find a way to form an alliance with the dragon Smaug. Though dragons are selfish and do not often choose sides, it was a risk they could not afford to take. So they went there. They discovered the truth, that much can be said. Gandalf had been right all along."

"I don't understand," Nyr piped up, his head cocked to the side. "What being could have such power as to corrupt the forest of the elves? What power could possibly lead to the ruin of... well, everything? I thought such powers were extinct from this world; we know they existed in ancient times, but there is no sign of them any longer."

"This foe is not new, Nyr," Alana told him, a sad curl to her lips. "This world has faced him before, a long time ago. He has fled now, behind the borders of Mordor and beyond our reach. He was weakened greatly by the Council's efforts. But his strength is gathering again, and he is preparing to declare war on the world, I am sure."

"But _who_ could do that?"

There was a long stretch of silence. All eyes were on her, but Alana suddenly found it difficult to speak. Gandalf had told her after the Battle of the Five Armies what had happened in Dol Guldur, what it meant for the people of the world, and for the world itself. He had urged her not to dwell on it, or worry, and so she had done exactly that. As much as was possible, anyway. But now, she realised, that was poor advice on his part. Ignorance was what had led to this in the first place - the determination to ignore the danger on their doorstep.

But what could be done to stop such immense power? Such hate for the free peoples of this world? The White Council were the wisest, oldest, and most powerful beings throughout Middle Earth, and they had not been able to truly defeat him. What could someone as small and unimportant as her do about it? To ignore the danger would be unwise, but to attempt to fight back against it would prove fatal. So what was to be done? What could _anyone_ realistically do?

"Alana?"

She blinked, Thorin's gentle voice pulling her from her thoughts, from her melancholy. She cleared her throat, determinedly pushing back her fears for the time being, then met Nyr's concerned eyes.

"Sauron."

There was an undeniable stir throughout the group.

"But he was destroyed," Rogvi argued. "He was defeated! How can he be back?"

Alana shook her head. "I don't know. Mithrandir believes it has something to do with his ring - the One Ring. It has bound him to this world, somehow. While the Ring exists, so too does Sauron." She gave a hapless smile and shrugged one shoulder. "But right now, that is just a theory. And the Dark Lord is too weak to do anything yet. We have time."

"To do what?"

"To figure out how to beat him," came the firm answer, though not from Alana's lips. Everyone's head swivelled in surprise towards Makaylen, her voice hard and eyes cold. "For good, this time. This world will not end at his hand. We will not, any of us, let that happen."

"Kayla's right," Alana said with a nod. "It could be years - maybe even decades - before Sauron becomes a threat. We can find ways of working against him, pushing him back. We can't let him create a foothold in this world, or we may be lost forever."

"But we cannot fight against him," Nivari said with despair thick in her voice. "We are no match for a maia!" Her words were remarkably close to Alana's thoughts earlier, and she felt that sense of hopelessness seeping into her heart again.

"We can if we stick together," Thorin said suddenly, and Alana tilted her head towards him, eyes wide in a hopeful kind of surprise. "And I don't just mean dwarfkind. I mean everyone. Men, elves, dwarves... maybe even hobbits, too, if they are willing to look beyond their borders long enough to notice this rising threat. It was an alliance that defeated him last time, and I do not doubt that nothing less will defeat him again. But, if nothing else, history has proven that Sauron _can_ fall. He is not completely invulnerable. So long as we work together, we can survive this."

"Not everyone," Rogvi grumbled. "If war really is coming, people will die. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands."

"Then we must make sure that their deaths will not be in vain."

Rogvi shook his head. "How can you have such hope?" he asked, eyes flicking between the King and Queen. "Both of you. You always have such optimistic views of things. How do you do it?"

"I was not always like this," Thorin said with a half-smile. "Even now, I cannot see the light in every situation. But over the years I learnt that if you have no hope, no belief that the light can win, then you will surely go mad from grief and despair. Hope of a better future is what keeps people fighting, including me."

Alana hummed thoughtfully when Rogvi turned his eyes to her. "I suppose, for me... I trained myself to think that way because I had people relying on me to come back. Between my father's death and my marriage to Thorin, I took it upon myself to look after my mother and brother. I did what I could, spent as much time at their sides as I could bear, but eventually I would always venture back into the wild; its call was too strong for me to fight for long. There are dangers everywhere out there, doubly so when you are alone. I had to make myself believe I would always come back to them, so they would believe me when I told them the same thing. If you go into a fight believing there will always be a way out, you're more likely to find it." She shrugged again. "After a while, that mindset just... stuck, I suppose. And I think life is easier to bear when you can always try to find the positives in things. Like Thorin said, to do otherwise is enough to drive you mad."

Rogvi stared at her for a moment, a furrow between his brows. Then, something in his eyes changed. Alana wasn't sure what it was that was different, but she could sense it even as he gave a brief nod. "I suppose that makes sense," he said at length. He then cleared his throat and stood up, stomping away into the trees with no more than a vacant, "Please excuse me," before he disappeared.

Alana exchanged a perplexed glance with Thorin, but he seemed as clueless as her. There was an awkward silence that hovered over them in the wake of Master Rogvi's rather abrupt departure, but it wasn't long before conversations started up here and there, and the air of comfort between friends returned.

Alana and Nivari were the only ones silent, and the Ranger noted that her friend was staring into the trees, at the exact spot where Rogvi had vanished into the darkness. There was a light of understanding in her eyes.


	47. Returning Home

**A/N: Yes, I know I didn't update over Easter, but as it turned out, I had a lot more work to do than I originally thought. I've been working on bits and pieces of this for weeks now, so sorry if this feels a bit fragmented at times. I wanted to cover a large time frame in this chapter, and kept doubted myself over which way was best to achieve that. Anyway, here is chapter 47 at last, and I hope it doesn't suck... XD**

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* * *

 **'There's nothing half so pleasant as coming home again.' ~ Margaret Elizabeth Sangster**

* * *

 **Chapter 47:**

"Edoras," Thorin announced as they crested a small rise in the land, the city of men revealing itself to them at last. It was built onto a lone hill in the middle of a vast plain, shadowed by the mountains in the west. Meduseld stood proudly at its peak, a glimmer of gold that crowned the hill with a sense of honest glory. "I have not visited this place in a long time." His eyes scanned over the city, in a manner that was more calculating than simply curious. "It has changed much since then."

"In the grand scheme of things, Rohan - as a kingdom - is still young," Alana reminded him with a smile. "It is growing with every year that passes, and I do not think it has yet reached its height."

Thorin glanced at her, his expression softening. "You like it here." It was not posed as a question.

Alana's smile brightened. "I do. I have only been to Edoras twice before now, but it is a beautiful place. It is nowhere near as crowded as Minas Tirith, or Erebor. The people here are wilder and care less for social hierarchy than most of the kingdoms of men, though that isn't to say they don't still adhere at all to that same hierarchy. And of course, they have a great love of the land, and you would be hard-pressed to find greater horsemen. Their ways can be... strange, at times, but they are a good, honest folk, and I have come to greatly respect them for that. I like the people, so I like the city; Edoras is simply a mirror of those who dwell within its walls." She paused, finally taking note of the expression on Thorin's face, his eyes twinkling. "What?"

Thorin's lips twitched upward at the sides. "It is always endearing to see you get so passionate about something - it's almost as if new life has been pumped into your veins." He gave a small smile, then with an air of hesitance, he added, " _Le bainon. (You are so beautiful.)_ "

Alana didn't think she would ever get used to the sound of the lilting elvish tongue coming from his lips. On its own it was like music to the ears, but from him... from her Thorin... every syllable struck her so deep that it resonated warmth through every nerve and every cell in her body.

She blinked at him, needing several seconds to regain her wits. " _Hannon le. (Thank you.)_ " Her voice didn't come out anywhere near as she had hoped, being higher in pitch than was normal for her and cracking halfway through the phrase. Thorin's smile widened into a fond grin.

"Thank Eru, we're here!" Nivari said, appearing rather suddenly at their side, along with the rest of their group. Alana hadn't realised how far ahead she and Thorin had been. "I could really do with a hot bath right now."

Alana shot her friend a crooked grin. "You'll have to get used to living without that luxury for a while, my friend. We've still a long way to go yet."

Nivari rolled her eyes. "I know, I know," she huffed, clearly put out. "But I could have gone without that friendly reminder, thanks."

With a laugh, Makaylen popped up on Nivari's other side, a grin already in place. "What's the matter, Niv? Too soft for the open world?"

Nivari's temper flared in a flash. It had been an intriguing thing to witness as Makaylen very quickly learned the most efficient ways to annoy their newest member of the group. Alana had thought Nivari an incredibly level-headed person, but Makaylen appeared to have developed a very keen sense of exactly which buttons to press to rile up their friend. Needless to say, that was the cause of most of the two's arguments - though they had all, so far, been in good humour.

"Look here, you little-"

"Enough." Thorin's voice was firm rather than sharp, but it was still enough to silence the two before they fell into their usual downward spiral of playful bickering. "Come, let's keep going. The sooner we get to the city, the sooner we can rest."

That seemed to be enough to have all of Nivari's annoyance wiped away, replaced with a broad grin. "Well then," she said laughingly, "what are we waiting for?"

And with that she started a purposeful march forward, the others quickly falling into step behind her while Alana and Thorin remained still. They shared an amused glance, before tagging on the end of the line.

* * *

Edoras was a cheerful place, the streets filled with casual chatter and the occasional joyous shriek of a child. Amongst so many heads of golden hair, their group stuck out more than a little - with only Nivari sharing the light colouring of the people of Rohan. Curious eyes watched as their procession progressed through the city and up towards the Golden Hall, though there was neither open suspicion nor hostility to be found. Every now and then there would be a face contorted with wariness, but no one tried to stop their progress.

They were met at the doors into the Golden Hall by a familiar, grinning face.

"Well met, good Lords and Ladies!"

Alana's face brightened into a bright smile. "Cenric!" she greeted cheerfully. "I didn't think we'd see you here!"

"Ah, but of course, my Lady!" he said, bowing low. "How could I miss seeing such a fair face again?"

Alana rolled her eyes at his comment, glancing over towards Thorin to make sure he wasn't too upset by it. She was pleasantly surprised to see his response was a mere raising of the eyebrow, though he did then send a disapproving look towards the man.

Cenric, catching the look and responding appropriately, became serious for a moment. "The King pulled me away from my duties in the Mark when he got word that you would be coming. He wished for me to greet you and make you welcome. King Fengel himself is regrettably unable to attend to you himself - his duties pulled him away from Edoras but three days ago, and we do not expect him to return for another week. My Lord sent his apologies for his absence, but from what I could gather, the need for his attention elsewhere was dire." He then smiled broadly, turning to Alana and saying, " _Yfel oferhîeran êow uferian êacen, Cwenhild. Yfel ðencan êower milts ge rûmmôd synto. (I hear you are pregnant, Cwenhild. I wish you joy and good health._ )"

Alana cocked an eyebrow. "You _heard_?" she echoed. "I would imagine the truth would be more easily garnered by _looking_ , don't you?"

Cenric grinned. "Perhaps, my Lady, but I feared that would get me into trouble."

"It still might," she shot back, though her grin removed any bite or seriousness from her voice.

Cenric snorted in response, before addressing the group as a whole. "No doubt you are all tired and longing for rest. Come, I will show you where you will be sleeping for the duration of your stay."

* * *

Alana lay with her head back, eyes closed, letting the warmth of her bath water seep into her skin. Much as she tried, she couldn't fully relax. There was a strange fluttering sensation in her stomach, like the butterflies one got when they were nervous, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what was causing it. She had no reason to feel anxious; on the contrary, she was now safer and more protected than she had been in almost a month. She gave a low grumble, deciding she was probably just hungry again, before blocking the sensation from her mind and sliding under the water.

Running her fingers through her hair and easing out the last of the soap suds that had stubbornly clung to the strands, Alana then broke the surface of the water again and wiped the water from her face. With a huff she stood up, wringing the water out of her hair, and then stepping out of the tub. A soft, linen towel had been left beside her bath for her to use, and she began to dry herself with it.

"Alright, alright, I'm going," she grumbled as her stomach gave another funny tumble. "Give a woman some time to get dressed, will you? I can't go out in just a towel."

"Are you alright, Alana?"

Alana smiled, calling back, "I'm fine, Thorin. I think the baby is impatient for me to eat, though. My stomach won't stop churning."

There was a light laugh from the bedchamber, followed by Thorin's amused voice. "Would you like me to find you some food?"

"No, that's alright," she said, roughly drying her hair with the towel. "I'm almost done now, anyway. Might as well eat in the hall with everyone else."

Thorin hummed in response. "As you wish. I'll trust your judgement on this, I think."

Alana grinned, but said nothing. She dropped the towel on the floor and was just reaching for her undergarments when that fluttering sensation appeared again. "You are an impatient thing, aren't you?" she grumbled fondly, giving her belly a gentle rub. "Just a few more minutes, and then-" Alana froze, eyes widening and hand freezing in place. " _Thorin!_ "

Thorin appeared at the doorway almost before she could blink, brows furrowed and eyes ablaze. He barely seemed to notice her nakedness as his gaze scanned her up and down, looking for any sign of injury.

"What is it?"

A bright smile appeared on her face, and there was a strong sense of delighted awe shining in her eyes. "He's _moving_."

It took a second for the words to register, before Thorin crossed the room in three long strides, stopping in front of her. His hands both rose to join hers, cradling her bump. A breathy laugh escaped his lips as he felt the tiny movements beneath his fingers, the small shifts as their baby adjusted his position in her belly.

"He's strong," Thorin noted with no small amount of satisfaction. "And he is healthy."

Alana nodded. "He's going to be perfectly fine," she murmured, her fingers tangling with his even as they both continued to press their hands against her baby bump.

They stood like that for several minutes, until their baby stilled, and Thorin finally seemed to notice Alana's state of undress. He gave her an intense look through dark eyes, before stepping back and making an effort to clear his mind. "Hungry or not, we should still go to get something to eat."

Alana nodded, chuckling. "I guess I ought to put my dress on, then."

* * *

They stayed in Edoras for just two days - long enough for them to rest and regain their strength, and refill their supplies. Then they bade the city of men farewell, continuing their journey back home.

They travelled in a vague north-westerly direction, aiming for a narrow part of the Anduin that they could cross safely enough on foot, and then make their way along the eastern edge of the forest of Mirkwood.

They crossed both the rivers Snowbourne and the Entwash, between which were vast lengths of golden grass, swaying lazily in the spring breeze. Alana and Nivari had enjoyed these parts most, taking a girlish delight in running through the grass with each other, their hands trailing behind them and disturbing the tops of the tallest shoots as they went.

As they continued through the Wold, walking became more difficult for Alana. At almost six months pregnant her body was tiring more quickly, and she was starting to get pains in her lower back. She pushed through it for a few days, but eventually gave in to Thorin's pleads and called one of the mearas to her.

The horse that arrived was just as beautiful as all the others, a pale, fleabitten grey, and was mercifully patient enough to carry Alana at a sedate walking pace when she grew too tired to walk on her own.

The days and weeks past like the flow of a river, following their progress as they crossed through the Brown Lands again, and then followed the outer treeline of Mirkwood. Close to the Old Forest Road they were met with a small party of elven scouts, who spoke with them of the events of the last few weeks and then shared some of their rations with the dwarven group. They disappeared only an hour or two after arriving.

The group continued onwards, their northward march bringing them closer and closer to Erebor. They all picked up their pace when the Lonely Mountain rolled into view, its singular spire piercing the sky and acting as a beacon that led them all home.

They arrived in Laketown in the early afternoon some two weeks after crossing paths with the elves, and were welcomed heartily by the new Master of the town. Alana had yet to meet him in person, though she had heard good things about him. His name was Ingar, and had been elected by the people of Esgaroth to be their leader. He was a kind man, his hair the colour of fresh-fallen snow. His wife, Janne, was a few years his younger, and provided enjoyable conversation, to say the least. She and Alana spent many an hour together, the older of the two regaling the other with many memorable (and amusing) tales of her two sons as they grew. Both were now grown men in their own right, one having moved to live in Dale with his own family, the other staying in Laketown to continue his trade as a hunter and tanner.

Ingar had then led them to their lodgings for the night, telling them in no uncertain terms that should they need anything, they would get it. Thorin had thanked him and requested some ponies and a horse to take them along the edges of the lake. When questioned about their route, Alana had sheepishly admitted that she had started experiencing flashes of motion sickness, and spending three days on a boat would be a nightmare for everyone. The Master had smiled kindly, and promised to provide them with the requested ponies, before leaving them to their solitude.

Most of the group went to their rooms early in the evening, eager for a restful night in a soft bed.

While Alana slipped on the nightgown provided for her, she became aware of the dark expression Thorin was wearing. Frowning in concern, she approached him. He was perched on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his hands.

"What is wrong, _meleth nín_? What troubles you?"

Thorin released a long sigh. "Do you remember, several months ago, when the Master brought concerns to us of bandits increasing their boldness and attacking his town more frequently?"

"I remember," she said. "No one knew how they were entering the town, before Makaylen mentioned the new water pipes leading from the river. But I thought that issue was settled a long time ago."

Thorin ran his hands over his face. "It _was_ ," he told her. "But they have returned, in greater force and with greater violence. The town is in a state of perpetual terror. People are afraid to leave their homes. The bandits are taking more than just gems and jewels - they are taking people's crops, their clothes. They are stealing food and killing livestock. Whatever went on last year, it did not wipe them out completely, and now they have returned with a vengeance."

"Are they using the pipe system still?"

Thorin shook his head. "No, they are not. Every attempt to find their headquarters has failed - the tracker either lost their trail or was spotted and killed. The men are getting desperate."

"Is there anything we can do to help?"

"I have already offered up my services."

For a moment, Alana simply nodded in satisfied agreement, before her mind suddenly realised precisely what he meant. "You mean you _personally_ , don't you?"

Thorin sighed, bowing his head and refusing to meet her eyes, but eventually he nodded. "Aye. Dwalin and I will be taking over the search. There is hope the bandits will not be so suspicious of dwarves following them, and we have more experience of tracking than all the men sent previously."

"And what exactly is your plan?" Alana's tone had hardened, formed an icy edge. She was not displeased with his choice, as such, and she knew that she would be making the same decisions at a different time. But she was worried about him nonetheless. The need for stealth and secrecy was great if they were to succeed in finding the bandits' hideout, but there was a greater danger with so few numbers.

Thorin finally looked up, meeting her eyes and seeing the concern and fear she didn't bother trying to hide. He stood up, grasping her hands in his own and holding them close to his chest. "I will be safe, **_badgûnaê_**. We go to scout out their location - no more. We do not seek to attack them. We will find them, and report back to the men of the lake. If they request arms we will provide them, but we will not go alone. We will have help."

" _Goston achin, (I fear for you,)_ " she admitted, her voice no more than a whisper. " _Law iston am (I know not why.)_ "

" _Av-'osto, deldúwath_ _nín_ _, (Don't be afraid, my nightshade,)_ " he murmured, surprising her with both the use of elvish and of the name given to her by the people of Bree. But where they spoke it with fear and wariness, Thorin spoke it only with endearment, with a soft tenderness that changed its meaning completely. " _Ni thelno dirweg. (I will be careful.)_ "

Alana sighed, closing her eyes as Thorin tilted her head down so her forehead was pressed against his. "I know you have faced far greater dangers than this in the past," she murmured, "but I cannot shake the fear in my heart. I have a terrible feeling about this, Thorin."

"All will be well in the end," he said softly, tucking a long strand of her hair behind her ear. "You will see."

"I hope you are right, Thorin. Truly."

* * *

Thorin and Dwalin remained in Laketown when the rest set off the next morning, both of them with grim but determined faces. Not wanting to turn into an ugly, blubbering mess in front of the gathered crowd, Alana said goodbye to her husband with no words, merely grasping his hand and squeezing it tight, and giving him a watery smile when he pressed a whisper of a kiss to her knuckles. Her farewell to Dwalin was even briefer. She met his gaze, her eyes pleading for him to look after them both and keep Thorin out of trouble. With a smirk, he bowed his head to her.

The group was quiet as they crossed the bridge leading out of the city and turned northwards once more. Each heart sung with joy at the sight of their home so close to them, but there was a sense of unease and melancholy that hung over them with the departure of two of their number. No one spoke. Not even Nyr and his optimism could quite withstand the heavy cloud that hung above them.

Alana's stomach was rolling, and she knew for sure this time that it was not the baby. Though she had done her best to hide it, she was terrified. The feeling of dread in her gut had only grown as the night had passed, keeping her awake long past the time that Thorin drifted off to sleep. She felt sick to the stomach. Every part of her was screaming to turn back, to grab Thorin and drag him back to Erebor with her. Something was wrong. Something about this didn't sit right with her. There were alarm bells ringing in every corner of her mind.

And yet, she couldn't figure out what it was that left her feeling so ill. So hopeless. The sensations of her body were at war with the logic of her mind. For now, logic won over. But she still couldn't shake the cold feeling spreading throughout her veins and filling her heart.

"My Lady?"

Makaylen's soft voice pulled her from her thoughts. She hadn't called her 'my Lady' in a long time, and in a small part of her mind, Alana wondered at the change. "I'm fine, Kayla," she replied, her voice lacking the conviction she had hoped to convey.

"You're leaving your husband behind to fight an unknown foe with only one other person for backup," Nivari stated blandly. "Of course you're not fine." Alana blinked at her friend, the bluntness of her words catching her by surprise. Nivari leaned over and took Alana's hand, holding it tight in her own. "But we are here for you, my friend. And we will be here for as long as you need us."

Alana smiled and squeezed Nivari's hand. "Thank you."

* * *

"So what do you think?" Kili asked quietly, his body angled towards his brother but his eyes lingering on the two strangers who had arrived in Erebor not an hour past. "Are they telling the truth?"

Fili sighed. "I don't know, **_nadadith_** ," he admitted. "Not for sure. But I don't sense any ill will from them. Perhaps they _are_ being honest; in which case we are doing them a great disservice in being so distrustful."

"I'm sure, if they are who they say they are, they will understand our caution." Kili paused. "How long until they come back?"

Fili glanced at his brother, smiling at the light of excitement and happiness in his eyes. "Based on what Thorin said in his last letter, three days from now, give or take a few hours."

Kili exhaled, smiling to himself. "It will be good to see them again, after so long. I have missed them greatly."

"As have I," Fili said, placing his hand on Kili's shoulder. "But we will see them soon. A few more days is not so hard to face compared to how long we have already waited." He dropped his hand, eyes falling onto the strangers again. "I want to trust them, Kee. Honestly, I don't think they are being false with us. But I know the consequences will be great should my trust be misplaced."

It was Kili's turn to place a hand on his brother's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "Your instincts have always been stronger than mine, Fee. And it has been a very long time since they led you astray. If you believe them genuine, I will do so as well."

Fili smiled. "It's always good to know I have your support, little brother."

"Always." Kili grinned. "Now come, we've let them wait long enough."

And with that he bounded away, leaving Fili to stare after him in disbelief. Shaking himself free of his surprise, Fili rolled his eyes fondly at his brother's antics, and then followed after him.


	48. The Love of Family

**A/N: Surprise! I know, it's weird right - me updating before an entire month or more has past since my last post... I'm trying my best, guys. I'm really trying. As I have learned, being bored and getting up at 7am are a good combination...**

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* * *

 **'No amount of worry can solve any problem.' ~ Godwin Delali Adadzie**

* * *

 **Chapter 48:**

Alana was unsurprised to see there was a welcoming party waiting to meet them outside the gates of Erebor. At the head of the gathering were Fili, Kili, and Dís, and a short way behind were the close family and friends of all the members of the group.

Alana dismounted her horse, and with a few whispered words of thanks, sent her away. She went in a whirl of movement, having the first chance to stretch her legs in a month. Alana chuckled, shaking her head, and then turned to walk towards her family.

Only to freeze almost instantly, her face falling slack in shock.

Then she started forward once more, an urgency to her steps that was not there before.

As soon as she was within earshot of the front three, she shouted forward, "What in Mahal's name is _that?!_ "

To their credit, they did a good job of hiding their surprise. Kili and Fili exchanged a perplexed glance, and Dís cocked an eyebrow, but otherwise none of them reacted any further.

"Not exactly the greeting we thought we'd get, _**irak'amad**_ ," Kili quipped, grinning.

"I could say the same," she said, stopping right in front of him and then kneeling down. Kili blinked, shooting another, more nervous glance at Fili. Alana tilted her head to the side, examining his face closely, then narrowed her eyes. "When did this happen and why was I not told?" she asked.

At last, understanding seemed to dawn. Kili beamed down at her, lifting his hand to stroke at the growing strands of thick hair on his chin, where her eyes had been focused since she first saw him clearly. "Ah, this. Shortly after you left, actually." He frowned. "And to my understanding, you _were_ told."

"I wrote to Thorin about it in one of my letters, and have brought it up a few times since then," Fili told her. "If you were not informed, it was no fault of ours." He frowned, glancing behind her. "Where is Thorin, anyway? And Dwalin, too."

Alana sighed. "They stayed in Esgaroth. There have been more cases of raids and thefts from the bandit group that hit the town several months back. They have stayed to help them men track down these lowlifes."

Dís scoffed. "Thorin thought it was a good idea to help with this _himself?_ " She shook her head. "My brother is an idiot." Then she frowned. "Why didn't you stop him?"

Sighing again, Alana stood up with a huff, giving Kili a grateful smile when he moved to help her. Her hand fell on the swell of her stomach as she answered. "I wanted to. Really, I did. But he is right that something must be done, and I do not think I would have succeeded in persuading him to come to Erebor with us. There was just... something about his demeanour when he told me. He did not meet my eyes for a long time, but he was open and honest with me regardless. He was worried about how I would react, but it did not make him any less determined to do this."

Dís sighed. "If he gets into trouble, I'm going to kill him."

"Trust me, you won't be the only one." Alana smiled then, looking at Fili. "Sorry to neglect you," she said with a laugh, pulling him into a hug. "It is good to see you. All of you."

"You too, Alana," he said, grinning up at her. "And so huge! _Look_ at you!"

Fili winced when his mother gave him a sharp whack over the head, while Alana threw her head back and all but howled with laughter.

"You _fool_ , Fili! Never, _ever_ , tell a pregnant woman she is huge. Not unless you want her to cut your-"

"Dís!" Alana cried, half-chiding and half-laughing. Her eyes shone with mirth. "This once, I will let him get away with it, since when last we saw one another I was not showing even a little." Her hands fell on her belly again, giving it a quick rub. "Yes, he is growing fast. For a dwarf, anyway. And already he is causing me more pain than I care to admit."

"Pain?" Fili repeated, alarmed. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I am fine, Fee," she said with a merry laugh. "Pregnancy is not so easy on the body, unfortunately, and staying upright for a long time creates all sorts of aches that I wish I did not have to deal with. But it is perfectly normal and natural, and nothing I cannot deal with."

"Well, that's good to know," he said with a bright smile. "Now, we-" Fili cut himself off, blinking as he noticed the spot that Kili had previously been occupying was now empty. He gave a grumble. "Where in Mahal's name did he disappear off to?"

"If you were to look behind Alana, you would see for yourself." There was a touch of joyous mirth in Dís' voice that caught the attention of both Fili and Alana, and they turned at once to see what the dam was talking about.

For the second time in just a few minutes, Alana's jaw fell slack.

"Well, that's..." She paused. "Well, it's not exactly unexpected, but _still_..."

Kili had moved away from them to make for the rest of the group. Whether he had headed straight for her or not was unclear, but right now, he and Makaylen were tangled up in each others arms and holding on for dear life. Both of them were oblivious to the surprised and curious stares and mutters of those around them.

Alana met Nivari's eyes, and almost fell into another fit of laughter at the startled expression on the blonde's face. Regaining control of her amusement, she gestured for Nivari to come over. The woman did so, though she seemed hesitant.

"Who is this?" Dís asked, not unkindly.

"I am Nivari, my Lady," she replied, dipping into a wobbly curtsy. "I have travelled with Thorin and Alana since they left Minas Tirith."

"Niv is planning on moving into Dale," Alana supplied, smiling and linking her arm with Nivari's to make her feel more comfortable. "I invited her to stay in Erebor until she has a home to live in. I sent word to Bard and asked for a favour, and he agreed to keep an eye out for a house that would be suitable for her."

Nivari jerked, blinking at her friend. "You did what? You asked the _King of Dale_ to look for a house for me?"

Grinning, Alana nodded. "I did indeed. He sent his reply shortly after; trust me, he does not mind. In fact, I rather got the impression he was glad to dedicate himself to a task that was not something to do with diplomacy or politics. Bard was not always a King, you know. He was a simple bargeman once. Regardless, he remains an honest man, who looks after his people. Since you are about to become one of them, he is willing to help see you housed in his city."

"I- I... _really_ don't know what to say..."

Smiling and giving Nivari's hand a friendly pat, Alana told her, "You don't need to say anything, Niv. I am just happy to have you here."

"Speaking of which," Fili piped up. "You have visitors, Alana."

Eyebrows rising in surprise, Alana glanced around. She saw no one out of place. "Visitors?" she repeated.

"Indeed. They appeared three days ago, seeking you out. They did not know you weren't here."

"Who?"

"They claim to be your kin," Dís told her. "There were two of them; Dírhael and Ivorwen."

Alana's eyes widened almost comically, before a bright smile lit up her face. "Take me to them," she said, urgency in her voice. "Please, _**namad**_."

Dís raised both eyebrows, but nodded. "They are in the guest quarter," she told her. "Come, I will show you the room."

Alana patted Nivari's hand again and then slipped her arm from hers, offering up a warm smile and then rushing to catch up with Dís, who had not bothered to turn and see if Alana was following.

Their progress through the city was slow, as they had to pass straight through the market to reach the guest quarter, and many of the people were eager to greet Alana and welcome her back. She responded to each in kind, surprising many with the fact that she remembered so many names and faces, and greeted them like old friends. Those she did not know yet she would spend a few minutes talking to, learning their names and little things about them, and then tucking those bits of information away in the back of her mind to be brought forward later.

At long last they made it into the guest quarter. These rooms were usually empty, for the most part. It was unusual for them to have more than a scant few visitors at a time. That meant that most of the guests stayed into front half of the corridor - and Dírhael and Ivorwen were no exception.

They had to walk past only two doors before Dís stopped at the third, glancing over at Alana and then nodding.

"They're in here," she said. "I will let you speak to them."

Alana nodded. "Thank you, Dís."

Dís smiled, though it was tense, and then started to walk down the corridor. Alana leapt forward almost at once, her hand raised and knocking on the door more forcefully than she normally would, thanks in no small part to her excitement.

There was a moment's pause, then a shuffle of fabric, and then the door opened.

The man that greeted her was ageing, but ageing well. His hair was deep brown, though greying at the temples, and his beard was almost completely discoloured. His eyes were the same warm shade of brown as his hair.

Alana's entire face lit up at the sight of him - an expression he mirrored. " _Haru! (Grandfather!)_ " she cried, lunging into his arms and laughing as he swept her up into a fierce embrace, though he was careful not to squeeze her too hard to avoid causing harm to her child. Over his shoulder, she caught sight of Ivorwen, her auburn hair the same mass of unruly curls as always. Even she was starting to grey now, though she maintained the air of warmth she had always possessed. " _Haruni! (Grandmother!)_ " she greeted in turn, laughing when Dírhael let go of her, only for her to be immediately swept up by her grandmother. Alana buried her face in Ivorwen's thick hair, breathing in the familiar scent of hibiscus flowers and soap. Then at length she pulled back, looking between her grandparents with both glee and confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"We came here to see you, of course!" Ivorwen laughed, taking Alana's face in her hands and giving her a bright and loving smile. "It has been so long since we last saw you, and you have grown so much since then." Her eyes darted down to Alana's bulging belly, and she grinned. "Congratulations on your pregnancy, little blossom. We were beside ourselves with joy when Gilraen told us, and knew it was time to visit you. I am sorry it has taken so long."

Alana laughed. "Any less time and you would have had a longer wait," she pointed out. She looked over at Dírhael, who was smiling brightly at her. "It is good to see you both. You are right that it has been a long time; too long, in fact."

"Come, sit with us," Ivorwen said, ushering Alana towards one of the plush chairs set in front of the fireplace. There was already a bright blaze in the centre of the hearth, crackling away cheerfully. "You have much to tell, I am sure, and we would like to hear all of it."

Alana laughed. "Alright, but only if you in turn tell me what has happened in the east since I left. Mother's letters are not usually very informative when it comes to such things."

"We will tell you all that we know," Dírhael promised, sitting himself opposite her, while Ivorwen took the remaining chair. "Now first, I think, you should explain to us what exactly possessed you to join a quest to slay a _dragon_ , of all things."

* * *

Dinner that night was a pleasant and joyous occasion, even without Thorin and Dwalin present. And Nori too, though for what reason, Alana wasn't sure. Alana sat with her grandparents, all three of them swept up in a conversation that had no real purpose, but that they all treasured nonetheless. Kili was being teased horrendously by Fili, though the blonde was able to keep his teasing low-key, given Makaylen was also present in the room. She was in another of her good-natured arguments with Nivari, the two maintaining level voices throughout the whole thing. The rest of the company were spread out around them, talking and laughing and having a merry time of it.

When it was time for dessert, conversation ended for Alana. The others seemed to find it endlessly amusing how much her taste for sweet things had grown since her pregnancy had started, though Alana felt absolutely no shame as she picked up her third fruit tart, winking at the knowing expression on Dís' face.

"You know, I was exactly the same with Dorlad and Gilraen," Ivorwen told her with a smile. "There were some days I refused to eat at all if it was not some sweet cake or pastry."

Alana chuckled. "I've been craving such things since only a week into our trip to Minas Tirith, but for much of it had to make do with only wild berries, or nothing at all. Needless to say, when we stopped in Minas Tirith and Edoras, I was sure to make the most of their food."

"Aye, and a right nightmare you could be too, at times," Makaylen teased, grinning. "Thank Mahal it was mostly Thorin who was on the receiving end of your moods."

"Ha!" Nyr barked from across the room. Though he had adopted his old role as a guard of the royal quarter, he was far more open with the royal line than the other guards - doubly so now. "By comparison to most, Alana's has been a mostly painless experience for the rest of us. If you'd been there when my wife was pregnant..." He let out a low whistle.

"What is your wife called, Nyr?" Alana asked, quirking an eyebrow at him, a dangerous glint in her eyes that he conveniently missed.

"Milja, my Queen." He cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

"I just thought she'd rather like to hear all the lovely things you've been saying about her over the last few months."

All at once, Nyr paled, and his eyes widened almost comically. "Well," he said at length, "in that case, I might as well go ahead and dig myself a grave to hide in."

A round of laughter went around the table at the guard's expense, though by the twinkle in his eyes he wasn't particularly worried about Alana's threat. He probably had good reason, too - most of the things he'd said about his wife had been overwhelmingly positive, stemming from his very clear and deep love for her, despite her quirks. And while any mention of his complaints about Milja during her pregnancy would probably get him into trouble, Alana was certain he'd be more than capable of worming himself out of it again.

The ones you loved had a way of doing that.

And with that single thought, all thoughts of good humour and joy were gone from Alana's mind.

Already it had been five days since their departure from Laketown, and their separation from Thorin and Dwalin. They'd heard no news from the two, but neither had they expected to - with a task so secrecy-sensitive, even sending a raven was too risky. Which meant that they were completely in the dark.

Alana had faith in Thorin and Dwalin's ability to defend themselves. Really, she did. But that sense of impending disaster and dread refused to release its tight grip on her, and in fact seemed to be sinking further and further into her skin.

Pushing back her chair, Alana quietly excused herself. That she had left half of her dessert uneaten was a sign to most that something was wrong, and prompted Nivari to instantly rise from her own chair to follow.

Alana didn't wander far. In the adjoining room was a series of plush chairs, set before a warm fireplace. Behind the chairs was a set of double doors leading onto the balcony, made of thick wood and iron, and set into an ornate stone frame. It was through these doors that Alana went, wrapping her arms around herself as she did. She knew she was being followed, but was silently grateful to her friend for giving her a moment to herself before joining her out on the balcony.

The view looked out towards the west, at the forest that grew a short distant from the foothills of the mountain. The sun was still hovering in the sky above the horizon, though it was now close to setting, and was casting everything in an orange haze.

"Is this how you felt?" Alana asked, voice cracking as her throat tightened and tears sprung - unbidden - into her eyes. "When Tarrien went off on that trip to Cair Andros, is this how you felt? A kind of cold dread, and a hollow feeling inside your chest. Like your body is preparing you for a greater pain to come."

Nivari was silent for a long time, her face scrunched up in pain. "Yes," she admitted at last.

Alana nodded, though in her chest her heart gave a painful throb. "I will continue to look for him," she said, though there were thick tears now gathering in her eyes. "I will continue to hope. I must have hope." She closed her eyes, and her tears fell at last. " _Boe sevin estel. (I must have hope.)_ "


	49. Dangerous Wounds

**A/N: It is now very close to midnight for me, and so _of course_ my brain decided now would be the perfect time to edit and post this chapter... Though to be honest, I've actually had this chapter done for a few days now, I just keep either forgetting to post (shame on me, I know) or am unable to when I think to do it. Such is life. Still, hope you enjoy it...! ;)**

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 **RainAstiel: No problem, thanks for reviewing at all, really :P I think Kili with a beard would be awesome, actually, and he'd no be doubt be ridiculously proud of it XD And yes, you're right about that... ;)**

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* * *

 **'You're a fighter. Look at everything you've overcome. Don't give up now.' ~ Olivia Benson**

* * *

 **Chapter 49:**

There are sometimes moments in life when everything seems to come to a grounding halt. When the world around you crumbles away, until just one thing remains, forcing it to become the focus of attention.

Those are the moments when even the strongest can feel impossibly weak; powerless to do anything.

It was bad enough that Thorin and Dwalin had gone of to do something dangerous (without her to keep an eye on them and to reassure herself that they were okay); what was worse was that the nature of their task meant she couldn't send or receive any messages concerning their activities. She was completely blind, and she had _been_ completely blind for almost two months.

Fili and Kili were with her almost constantly, doing their best to keep her mind distracted from her absentee husband. Dís, Nivari, her grandparents, and the rest of the company also did what they could, when they could. At first, they were successful. Kili had taken on a pupil to teach archery, and had asked for Alana to help. The pupil was struggling to improve, and Kili was unsure what advice he could give to get him past that hurdle.

Alana had agreed to attend a few of the lessons, and eventually, between the two of them, they had managed to find a solution to the problem.

Dís had also dragged her into Dale for a day, to visit Nivari (who had moved into her new home in Dale only two weeks after their arrival) and to peruse the markets for things that the baby would need. Not to mention everything else.

They'd spent a very long time at the seamstress' shop - the modest place being owned by Lynda, the very same woman who had made Alana's wedding dress. They had laughed and joked together, thinking up ridiculous scenarios of what might happen every time a new outfit was suggested. Alana had found the tiny clothing adorable, and had realised - quite suddenly - just how close she was to having a real baby in her arms. _Her_ baby.

While she had been locked in the land of realisation, Dís had just glanced over her, seen the expression on her face, and smiled knowingly.

All of it was useless in the end.

Despite the temporary distractions, Alana remained constantly on edge. There was an innate part of her that just _knew_ that something wasn't right, and no amount of consoling words or reassurances or actions could get her to believe otherwise.

Despite this, she couldn't have been prepared for the sight of Dwalin trudging towards her, his face and arms littered with bloody scratches, a heavy limp in his step, and Thorin's unconscious body draped across over his shoulders.

Alana had been saying goodbye to Nivari (who had been invited over for a visit by the Queen and Crown Princess), when she just so happened to let her eyes sweep over the vastness of the land that stretched out from the mountain's base. Almost instantly her body jammed to a sudden stop, her limbs freezing, and she became as pale as the snow sitting on the mountaintop.

She hadn't been the only one to notice the King's current state, and she was vaguely aware of the frantic calls for healers and the general chaotic bustle of her panicked people, but she couldn't tear her eyes from Thorin's prone form. There was blood on his coat - a lot of it, too - and yet she couldn't identify where it came from. All she knew was that Thorin was hurt, and, in that moment, she felt like she was unable to do anything to help. Never in her life had she felt so utterly powerless.

She watched without blinking as Thorin was handed over to a pair of faceless healers, and was swiftly rushed away towards the healing rooms.

But she could not bring herself to follow. Her limbs failed to move, and she felt glued to the ground where she stood.

In some dark corner of her curiously blank mind, Alana knew she was in a state of shock. She knew that she would need a shock of a different kind to be broken out of it quickly. What she couldn't say, however, was what that shock should be. She had no ideas. No sudden sparks of inspiration. She felt like an empty canvas, waiting to be painted on by the holder of the brush; the identity of whom was unknown, despite their infinite power over her.

Alana needed to break out of this, but she could neither ask for help, nor simply do it by herself.

Her mistake, in all this thought, was to forget that Thorin had not been alone in his arrival to the mountain.

Dwalin knew everything she did, and more. The difference lay in the fact that he _could_ snap her out of it. There were probably many eloquent or intelligent ways of doing so, but Dwalin was not known for being either of these things (though that isn't to say he possessed neither eloquence nor intelligence at all). Dwalin was a warrior, first and foremost, and he had a warrior's mind.

He knew as well that Alana was also a warrior, in the depths of her soul. She always would be. Though her role as Queen took precedence in her actions, her life as a Ranger was too deeply ingrained in her mind and her heart to ever be forgotten.

Armed with this knowledge, Dwalin decided that the quickest way to get her back was to call upon that part of her.

So without bothering to think of the repercussions, he gathered as much of his remaining strength as he could, and swung at her.

This, he figured, could go one of two ways. Either his blow would hit, and she would be knocked to the side, in pain and disorientated, but most likely back in her right mind. Or - and, frankly, this was the much preferred alternative, for multiple reasons - her instincts would kick in. She would then move to deflect his blow, perceiving him to be a genuine threat and thus clearing her of her shock.

He just hoped she wouldn't retaliate too brutally.

In the end, Alana flinched away from his fist, her hand snapping out to stop his swing, before she ducked under his arm. She remained grasping his wrist, and therefore by the time she became still again, Dwalin's right arm was being bent uncomfortably behind his back.

For several seconds, silence reigned.

Then the pressure on his arm was gone, and so was Alana's presence behind him. The nearby guards stood with hands resting on their weapons, shuffling on their feet with uncertainty. Dwalin was the most trusted warrior in Thorin's army, but he had essentially just attacked the Queen.

They wisely chose to first see how Alana would react.

Her blue eyes shone with a fire that had previously been lacking, and there was a little more colour in her cheeks. Meeting his eyes squarely, she cocked her head to the side. "Thank you, my friend."

Then she disappeared off down the corridor, her long skirt billowing out behind her. Dwalin followed, though not just because he too needed to be seen by the healers. Thorin was his best friend, and Alana was very close behind. He wanted to see them safe, and he wanted reassurance that Thorin would be okay.

The ageing warrior suspected that Thorin's wound remained as bad as it was only because he was struck by a poisoned blade. As long as the poison could be removed, he was confident the King would be fine within a week or two (or at least, that's what Thorin would try to convince the rest - whether he'd get away with it was questionable). But poisons were tricky things. Not all of them could be easily identified, and there was no cure for all ills. Each poison had a specific set of herbs that would counteract its effects. If Thorin was not treated in time...

The healing house was in anarchy when they arrived, healers calling to one another with frantic voices, creating a cacophony of sounds that grated on his ears.

Thorin had been laid on one of the beds, his clothes hastily and carelessly removed. His coat had been left in a bloodied heap on the floor, and the various layers of shirts he'd been wearing had all been ripped to shreds, leaving his torso bare, and the wound easy for the healers to access.

It was a long gash, deep and bloody, stretching from his left collar bone and down to the lower right side of his ribcage. The skin around it was starting to become streaked with red and was already swollen. Dwalin wasn't a healer, but he knew the signs of an infection when he saw one.

His attention shifted away from Thorin when Alana removed herself from his side. There was a tremble in her body as she floated through the room, pale as a ghost but eyes alert and alive. She stopped by Thorin's coat, kneeling down slowly to pick it up. She held it in her shaking fingers and stared at it, her fingers gently sifting through the soft furs. Dwalin remembered then that Alana had a particular fondness for this coat - though he couldn't understand why.

As he watched, she brought the coat up to her face and inhaled the scent that clung to it, and she seemed to draw comfort from it. Then she hung the coat up on the rack by the door, rolled up her sleeves, and moved to help the healers. Any attempted protests were met with such a fierce look that no one dared to do so a second time.

Alana helped to clean the wound, though the tremor in her hands never fully went away, and would grow worse every time her eyes skipped up to scan Thorin's face. She stepped back to let Oin examine the wound more closely, telling him in a quiet voice that he had greater knowledge of poisons than her.

At length, however, Oin stepped back with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry, lassie. I've not seen anything like it before."

"But surely you must-"

"Alana," Oin said, voice dropping to become serious and effectively cutting her off. "You are welcome to look yourself, but I can do no more to remove the poison if I cannot identify it, and I can't. I'm sorry."

With a frightened expression on her face, Alana did as suggested, taking Oin's place at Thorin's side. Her fingers started probing the wound, causing more blood to pour out. With a curse she grabbed a clean piece of cloth and pressed it down on the wound, before pausing. Her eyes widened. " _Glorinui_ ," she breathed. She leaned closer, and inhaled strongly. "It is! It's _glorinui_! But why...?"

"What's _glorinui_ , lass?" Dwalin prompted, arms folded over his chest.

"It's a flower," she explained. "It grows abundantly in the valley of Imladris - it's literally everywhere. The elves use it for healing all the time. But that's what I don't understand. It's a healing flower, not a poison. It _stops_ infections. I don't-" She cut herself off again, eyes widening in realisation and then horror. "Oh, of course."

"Speak to us, lassie," Oin said urgently. "What's going through that head of yours?"

"Like I said, it helps to stop infections. It reduces inflammation and lowers blood pressure. But in strong enough doses it can also interrupt the process of blood clotting. This poison is stopping the blood from clotting and helping to seal the wound."

Oin was nodding along as if he understood every word, but Dwalin was just about ready to scratch his head. This healer talk really was meaningless to him. "So," the old healer concluded, "we need something that will help the blood to coagulate more quickly, so that he doesn't bleed out."

Alana nodded. "The best thing for him would be _rhawlas_ -" She cut herself off, cursing. "Wild leaf, it is called by the elves. I don't know the word for it in the common tongue, or if there even is one. It's a type of cabbage leaf, you cook it, and-"

"Kale," Oin piped up, smiling. "Cooked kale made into a paste. Aye, that could work."

"And kingsfoil," she added. "To fight off the infection."

Oin nodded, quickly turning to the other healers who'd drifted away and barking orders at them. Three disappeared in a flash, the other two bustling about to find more pieces of cloth in the meantime.

Alana smiled gratefully when one of the healers - one he recognised, he realised with a start, to be Makaylen's mother - brought over a chair for her to sit on. Dwalin cursed himself for forgetting that Alana was heavily pregnant and therefore should not be on her feet. It was quite the achievement, he grumbled under his breath, to forget such a thing.

With one hand pressed against the wound on his chest, Alana raised her other to tenderly push back a lock of his hair. " _Gi melin, (I love you,)_ " she murmured to him. " _Ú-erich o nin gwanno. Ú-erich leithio. Gin iallon, baw nin gwanno. Nathorn, meleth_ _nín. Nathorn. (You cannot leave me. You cannot let go. Please, don't leave me. Be strong, my love. Be strong.)_ "

"He'll be okay, Alana," Dwalin said, not understanding her words but recognising the pleading tone she used. "He'll get through this. He's tough, and stubborn, and he's got you to look after him. He'll be okay. You'll see."

Alana smiled up at him, grateful tears swimming in her eyes. "Thank you, Dwalin. I needed to hear that."

"You're not the only one who can't bear the thought of his passing, _**namadith**_."

"I know, I know, I just..." Alana froze, his words finally seeming to sink in in their entirety. "Did you just call me...?"

"Little sister," he finished, nodding. "Aye, that I did. Thorin is my brother, in all ways but blood. And now you, too, have earned your place in my heart as kin. And not just because you married the bugger."

Alana let out a snicker at that, her eyes shining brightly. She paused for a moment, glancing at Thorin again. "Will you tell me what happened?"

Dwalin exhaled heavily. "You're not gonna like it," he admitted, but Alana's expression didn't waver, so he obliged her. "It took us several weeks of waiting before we had a solid lead to follow. Every time those bastards came into Esgaroth they were gone before we had the chance to catch them. When we finally caught sight of one as he was leaving the town, we were able to follow behind. They're not being so elegant about it anymore - they swim, simple as that. In and out. They have a safe-house in the town though - a crumbling building on the south side. They've got clothes and food stored inside. They swim to that house when they arrive, change out of their wet clothes so they don't stand out. No need for them to bother on the way back, though. Not this time of year, at least.

"Thorin and I followed him for days. They're not camped anywhere close to the town - in fact, they are only a few hours away from here. They stay so far away to make it easier for the men to lose their trail, I suppose. In the end, we found where they were hiding. There's an old house in the middle of the forest west of here. He went straight inside.

"We had no idea how many of them were in there, and it was never our intention to face them in battle on our own, anyway. So we went back to Laketown. The Master gathered some men together to assist us. We were a group of about twenty. It wasn't exactly an army, but we had the element of surprise on our side, or so we thought.

"We were about a day's travel away from the house when I saw Thorin become still. I knew something was wrong, so I told the men to ready their weapons. A dozen of them sprang out at us barely a second later. It wasn't a long skirmish, by any means, but it became clear these weren't mindless brutes. They had skill, and training. More than most of the men from Esgaroth had, at any rate. By the time all of them were dead, there were only five of us left.

"I tried to convince Thorin that we should turn back, that they'd know we were coming, but... he's a stubborn ass. He refused to turn back. And I wasn't gonna let him wander into that trap alone. But the other men, they remained, so that they could bury their dead. In the end, it was just the two of us against a whole hoard of them.

"The house was a trick of its own. It's a small place at first glance; simple. The bare minimum only, and nothing out of the ordinary. But since we knew there had to be more, we kept looking. Thorin found a trigger that opened up an old escape tunnel in the basement. It led into an underground cave - one that I do not doubt was there long before the house was built on top of it. It wasn't big, particularly. The bandits had divided it up into three rooms. The first we cleared out easily - it was full of men sleeping or too drunk to notice us. The second took longer, as there were more men and they were more aware.

"The third was when it all turned to shit. Both of us had survived up until then with only a few cuts and scratches. The third room was a makeshift bar. And it was _full_. There must have been forty of them in there. I don't know whether it was some form of battle-frenzy or sheer idiocy, but Thorin jumped straight in. He'd taken down three of them before they or I could react. But then they all turned on us at once."

Alana sighed, shaking her head. " _ **Khuzd allâkhul,**_ _**(Stupid dwarf,)**_ " she muttered, her voice at once annoyed and tender, her hand gently nudging Thorin's cheek.

"Aye, that he is, and then some," Dwalin agreed gruffly. "At least he's got you here now to knock some bloody sense into him." Alana smiled at that, amusement shining in her eyes.

"What happened?"

"What you'd expect, I suppose," he told her with a sigh. "There were several archers within the group, so I focused on taking them out first. They didn't take much effort to kill, but by that point Thorin and I were separated by the whole group. There must have been two dozen or so left at that point. And, I don't know, maybe they knew who he was, but most of them converged on him. Now, Thorin may be one of the best swordsmen in the east, but even he had little chance against so many. I took out my share of bandits easily enough, but he was still facing down the rest. There were eight left at that point.

"I tried to fight my way back to him, but even with so few of them left, they remained composed. Organised. They blocked me off from him, and of course, the last to survive were the ones with the most skill. I couldn't fight them off fast enough. One of them managed to slip under his guard and made that nasty gash you see before you.

"Thorin was stunned, and knocked back, but not long enough for them to attack him again. He kept fighting, despite the pain I knew he was experiencing. And eventually, we killed 'em all. It was a mess in there, I can safely say that. Bodies everywhere, blood on the floor, and Thorin trying to get me to believe that he was fine. He didn't even make it outside before collapsing. I knew I didn't have much of a chance of saving his life, so I wrapped up his wound as best I could with what little I had, slung him over my shoulders, and came straight here. He fell unconscious about an hour ago."

Silence lapsed over the two of them, both lost in thought.

"Thank you," Alana said at length. "For keeping him safe. For being there for him when he needed you. I wish I could have been there to help, but of all the people in the world, I am glad it was you that was fighting alongside him."

Dwalin bowed his head to her. "Aye, lass. And I'll continue to do so until one of us finally decides to kick the bucket. But that's not today, lass. It's not today."

"No," she agreed firmly. "It is not."


	50. Awakening

**A/N: My God, this one was a nightmare to write. I got stuck at about 2,000 words for ages, and just couldn't find a way to keep it going. Eventually I managed to slog my way through it, but I can't promise it'll be quite up to standard...**

 **Big thanks to** **danny12 and Madness is me (saaaaaaaaame)** **for following/favouriting...! :)**

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 **JollyRoger1: Meh, kind of halfway between 'not long' and 'the usual' so... hopefully wasn't horrible, I guess :P**

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 **ThunderNinja4Ever: You timed that pretty well, it seems... ;)**

* * *

 **'When you truly care for someone, their mistakes never change your feelings because it's the mind that gets angry, but the heart still cares.' ~ Unknown**

* * *

 **Chapter 50:**

It took ten minutes for the healers to return with fresh kale, warm water, and _athelas_ leaves. While the water was placed on a fire and the kale added, Alana grabbed the _athelas_ and began to mash it into a paste. The last of her nerves had finally faded, leaving her hands steady and her heart only a tad bit faster than normal. The familiar motions helped to calm her, but she still couldn't completely forget that this was _Thorin_ she was aiming to heal. This was her _husband_. Which meant that, for her, much more was at stake than normal.

She remembered how it had felt before she'd healed Kili. The wound he'd harboured then was smaller, but the poison far more potent. That she'd been able to heal him gave her hope and confidence that she could do the same with Thorin. Still, the same fears threatened to rise up in her chest, the same doubts. She did all she could to push them down, to have faith in herself as she knew Thorin would urge her to do. He'd always felt such belief in her abilities.

"Here, lass," Oin said, ripping herself from her thoughts and shoving her all too thoroughly back into the present. He was holding up the kale, now cooked through. "I've cooled the leaves in some cold water - they should be okay to use."

Alana nodded, grabbing the rough leaves and shoving them in the mortar alongside the _athelas_ flowers. She could feel the adrenaline start to kick in, leaving her shaky again, but her determination shone through.

She sucked in a breath, shut her eyes, and whispered to herself, "You can do this."

And she truly believed it.

"You're gonna want to watch this," Oin said to his fellow healers, all of them gathered in a group some way off from Thorin and Alana, Dwalin at their head with furrowed brows.

Alana swallowed back her nerves, gathering up the thick paste in her hands, and then pressing it firmly against the wound. Even in unconsciousness, Thorin's body jerked at the first press of the herbs, but Dwalin jumped forward to hold him down.

As her hands moved to cover his wound in its entirety, her eyes slid shut again, and she started chanting quietly in elvish, the very same chants she had used to bring Kili back from the brink. " _Anor valthen, togo laugas lín nestad enin gûr hen. Ceven dhaer, anno vellas_ _lín enin 'raw hen. (Golden sun, may your warmth bring healing to this heart. Great Earth, may you give your strength to this body.)_ " Warmth spread from her fingertips as she began the chants a second time, her body thrumming with an energy she had only felt once before now. It was like some strange power was being drawn out from within her, passing into Thorin's body. Her eyes opened, and fell onto Thorin's face. Already, she was pleased to see some colour had returned to his cheeks. Her voice fell into a whisper. " _Anthon i veleth nín_ _allen. Davo aned tuludh. (I give you my love. Let it sustain you.)_ "

"Lass?" Dwalin spoke cautiously. "Did it work?"

"This wound isn't like Kili's was," she croaked, her throat feeling dry. "We can't know at once if he is better. For now, we must keep it bound and give it time to start to close over. Then tomorrow we can assess what else needs to be done."

"Most likely he will need stitches," Oin piped up, appearing at their side. "Though I think he will survive without them for now." He clapped her on the shoulder. "You did well, lass. Now you should lie down. It's not good for you to be under such stress."

Alana nodded, but then turned her pleading eyes to Dwalin. "Will you stay with him?"

"Not even Mahal himself could take me from his side."

A relieved grin spread across her lips. "Thank you, my friend." She reached over and squeezed his shoulder, before allowing herself to be ushered out of the healing room.

* * *

"How is he?" Dís asked at once, her hands grasped tightly in front of her and her face pale.

"He's holding on," Alana told her, wearied by the long walk back up to the communal lounge of the royal quarters. "And when I left, he looked better. He lost a lot of blood, and the poison on the blade that struck him stopped it from clotting properly. With luck, the paste added and bandages wrapped around it will help it to heal." She placed a heavy hand on Dís' shoulder. "He's going to be okay, Dís."

Dís blinked up at her, the quiver of her lips betraying her worry. "Do you know that for sure?"

"No," Alana admitted. "But I am confident, and so are the healers. That's the best we can do for now."

"Will you tell me what happened to him?"

After a moment's pause, Alana did so. She told the same tale Dwalin had told her, not bothering to sugar-coat anything. The more she talked, the more stern Dís' face became.

At length, when the story was over, the dwarrowdam shook her head. "I honestly have no idea what drove him to attack this threat himself. He knows the value of his life."

"He was in a position to help, and the men of the lake were desperate, I suppose," Alana said with a sigh. "He and Dwalin have more experience wandering the wilds than any of the men the Master could have sent. They are better trackers and hunters, and better warriors to boot. Truly, they had a better chance than anyone else. And, despite Thorin's injuries, they were successful. The bandits are no more. Even if they didn't manage to take out every single one of them, I don't doubt that this was a big enough blow to their numbers that they will not dare trying to raid Esgaroth again - nor anywhere else near here."

"I understand his desire to help with these sorts of things, and I know his reasoning," Dís said with a frown. "But Thorin is King to our people. We cannot afford to lose him for something that someone else could have done just as well."

Alana cocked an eyebrow. "So we are expected to send someone else into the same danger? At least Thorin went willingly; anyone else would merely be following orders."

"But _they_ would not be King."

Alana shook her head. "Look, Thorin is my husband, and I love him with all my heart. His loss would shatter it completely. But his royal blood and his position in our kingdom does not mean that his life is of greater value than anyone else's. Everyone has the same right to life, and to live it the way they choose. Thorin may well have been behaving recklessly when he offered to help, or perhaps he was just being brave. Stupidly so, admittedly. Regardless, that was his choice, and now he will deal with the consequences of the choice he made."

"As will we all," Dís grumbled with a hint of bitterness. "Those who love him will bear a part of his pain, while we wait to see whether he will be safe."

"Thorin's wounds will heal with time. He'll be fine."

"How can you be so sure? The last time you were in the healing house for a serious injury you were kidnapped from your bed and not seen for almost two weeks."

Alana frowned. "Dís, that threat is gone. The same thing isn't going to happen again."

"We don't know that. The person who tried to kill you in the first place is still out there, somewhere."

"We don't know _that,_ either. They could have disappeared to another kingdom after their failure."

Dís blinked, glancing over at Alana with a shocked expression. "Thorin didn't tell you that, either?"

Alana stilled, her eyes becoming intense as she narrowed them. "Tell me what?"

"Nori found the dress. The dress that was our one lead during the time of the attack. For the last few months he's being trying to trace its owner, and he's getting close. I think he's narrowed it down to only two or three possible people now."

Alana was silent for a long time. "And you think this person will strike out against Thorin now?"

"If they have caught wind of the fact that we are closing in on them, they might do." Dís sighed. "My son may not show it often, but he has a sensible head on his shoulders. Kili warned this may happen - as he said, a bear backed into a corner is far more likely to attack than sit quietly and await its fate."

Biting her bottom lip, Alana took a deep breath. "Dwalin is staying with him," she said at length. "No one's getting close to Thorin while he's still healing." She glanced back at Dís. "Who are Nori's culprits?"

Dís shrugged. "From what he's said, no one of particular note. None of them are people any of us have had contact with, as far as I know, nor are they particularly high up in society. I suppose that leaves their only motivation to be tradition, then. They are upset that Thorin chose someone who wasn't of dwarfish blood to be his wife."

"There are any number of reasons why someone would want to kill," Alana said darkly. "Something tells me the desire to uphold tradition would not be enough to drive someone towards murder and treason. There has to be more to it."

"Maybe so," Dís allowed, her own voice dropping. "But whatever their reasoning, there is no excuse for their actions. Attempted murder remains attempted murder, no matter how justified the attacker feels they are in the own mind." She sighed. "I just wish to know who would dare do something like this. And a part of me cannot quite believe that it was someone we have never encountered before. It is rare that killers do not first have some kind of relationship with their victims."

"Rare, yes. But not impossible." Alana glanced down at her sister. "Besides, it could be argued that Thorin and I have a relationship with everyone in the kingdom - such are the inevitable ties between the people and their monarchs. They look to us for leadership and guidance, and we are expected to provide them safety in times of darkness. Perhaps we have let this person down in some grave manner that we are thus far unaware of."

Dís frowned. "You should not offer up excuses for their crimes, Alana."

"I am not. But understanding their motives is important nonetheless. Sometimes killers were good people who wandered too far down the wrong path. Other times they are evil for the sake of being evil. It is true that it does nothing to reduce the severity of their actions, but understanding why people do things may result in us figuring out a way of preventing it in future."

Shaking her head, Dís grumbled, "You are far too compassionate for your own good, Alana. Even towards those who mean you harm."

"Maybe," she said, directing her gaze towards the warm hearth to her right. "But I will not abandon it. Not even for those who would use it against me, as a weakness. Compassion was never meant to be a weakness, and I refuse to see it as such." She smiled. "Besides, there are many more deserving of compassion than there are those who are not."

Dís stared at her for several seconds, before snorting. "You're too _stubborn_ for your own good, too."

Chuckling, Alana shrugged. "I learned from the best."

"Who? Thorin?"

Alana shook her head. "No, I was stubborn long before I met Thorin. It was my father that taught me to be stubborn - or as he liked to call it, 'steadfast'. You hold firm to your beliefs, no matter what. So long as you are certain that what you are doing is right, you seek out no compromise. The rest will fall into place as it should."

Dís was quiet. "You don't talk about your father much."

"Neither do you talk much about your husband." Alana smiled again, but sadly this time. "Talking about those we love that have passed beyond our reach is painful, as I'm sure you know. And though time may soothe the wound, it cannot erase it. Not completely." She sighed. "Mahal only knows how I will cope if I ever lose Thorin."

"The same way I did." Dís stepped up to her and pressed her hands against the mound of Alana's belly. "For those who remain dependent on you. For those who remain in your heart, who keep it beating, despite the loss you feel." She sucked in a sharp breath, then nodded. "But it is as you said; Thorin will not die from this. He will not die for a long time yet. And so long as he is alive, he will have you there to keep him safe."

Alana's face brightened, though her eyes remained soft and warm. "Always."

* * *

Though he remained unconscious, Thorin's wound was already better when they came to look at it the next morning. The old paste was removed, having mostly dried up during the course of the night, and the gash was carefully stitched back together. He didn't stir once throughout the whole affair.

Alana remained stood by the door with her arms folded over her chest. Her concern remained, as this was Thorin, and so she would always worry about him. But with the initial panic and shock having worn off, she found herself feeling angry. Angry at him for so carelessly risking his life. Angry at him for leaving her in the first place. Angry at him for dragging Dwalin into the mess alongside him. And with that anger came a sense of bitterness. If he was going to be so callous with his life, he was going to damn well endure all the consequences that followed. And if he so much as _dared_ to complain...

"I know you're upset, my Lady," Tamalyn said softly, hovering at Alana's side. "But you really shouldn't stay on your feet for so long."

Alana ignored her concern. "I'm not upset; not anymore. I'm furious. I don't know what in Durin's name he was thinking out there, but whatever it was, it made him disregard everything he had waiting for him at home. All the people that love him, and who would suffer over his loss." She shook her head. "Dís was right... His actions go far beyond the boundaries of sense and sanity. I just wish I knew what could have possibly possessed him to charge into a fight with the odds stacked so high against him. He's not a reckless person by nature, so this was very out of character for him."

"I'm sure he had his reasons, my Lady," Tamalyn said, gently ushering her towards a chair. "Now, _please_ , sit down."

With a sigh, Alana allowed herself to be pushed towards a chair, though she tried to hide just how grateful she was for the rest. Her feet were sore, and her back ached something fierce. The babe had been extremely active the whole morning, wiggling this way and that, clearly trying and failing to get comfortable. Even now, he was adjusting his position every few seconds or so, resulting in a strange tumbling sensation in her stomach that she still hadn't completely grown used to.

"Alana."

Alana perked up at the sound of her grandmother's voice. " _Haruni_ ," she greeted in turn, accepting the older woman's hug and offering Tamalyn a departing smile as the dam left the room. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were doing," Ivorwen said, grabbing her own chair and placing it beside Alana's. "I know how hard it is to see those you love in pain."

Alana averted her gaze, a sigh escaping her nose. "Honestly, I have reached the point where I have very little sympathy left to give."

"Perhaps, but that does not mean seeing him like this is any easier."

Alana's eyes skipped over to Thorin, still lying motionless on his bed, and her heart gave a pitiful but still noticeably painful thud. "No, I suppose not..."

"I know it is not my place to get involved in this," Ivorwen said, reaching over and grasping Alana's hand tightly in her own. "But I ask that you give him the chance to explain himself before you unleash your wrath upon him."

Unbidden, Alana felt her lips tug up on one side. "My wrath?" she repeated, amused.

"Aye, you can be quite the sight when angered, and I do not envy Thorin right now. I would not want to be in his place." A smile appeared on her grandmother's face, her eyes crinkling up at the sides and swimming with warmth. "And you were always so stubborn..."

"Don't you mean _steadfast_?"

Ivorwen laughed. "Now _that_ sounds like something your father would have said." There was fondness in her tone. "Call it what you want, blossom, the fact remains that you are the most _steadfast_ person I've ever met."

Alana laughed, a light-hearted sound, and a grin spread over her lips. "I live amongst dwarves - I have to keep up somehow."

"You are more stubborn than the rest of us combined, _**atamanel**_."

Alana's head whipped around to see Thorin with his turned to face her, his eyes bleary but smiling at her, and his lips were spread to show a flash of his teeth. She was at his side in a moment, taking his face in her hands and planting a short but desperate kiss on his lips. "So you say," she murmured, drawing back. "But it is not me whose stubbornness got them into _this_ mess, was it?" she cocked an eyebrow at him, her displeasure shining through even though her heart was thrumming with joy at seeing him awake again.

Thorin let out a weak chuckle, wincing when it sent shockwaves of pain through his chest. "Perhaps we are more evenly matched than I thought."

"Mm-hmm, that's what I thought." She lifted her head just in time to see Ivorwen glance back at her with a smile, before slipping out of the room to give the two some privacy. Alana brought her hands to the bandages wrapped around Thorin's torso, eyes meeting his again. "How do you feel?"

"Weak," he admitted. "And tired."

"It's hardly surprising; you _were_ almost cleaved in half by your own stupidity."

Thorin exhaled a long sigh. "I know I thoroughly deserve the tongue-lashing you wish to give me, but could I delay it a little longer, _**gimlelul**_? I fear I am not up to hearing it right now, and I wish simply for this moment to be one of peace."

Alana heaved a long sigh. "Alright, Thorin," she agreed, smoothing back his hair with her hand and then giving his marriage braid a tug. "Just this once."

Another weak grin crept over his lips, and his raised his hand to gently grasp her own within his fingers. " _ **Zi amsumul, (You are wonderful,)**_ " he breathed, straightening his forefinger just enough that he could use it to gently stroke her cheek.

"Flattery will not save you, Thorin Oakenshield," she warned, though she melted into his touch nonetheless. She knew she was going to find it difficult to hold onto her anger - merited though it was. Not when he was behaving like this.

"'Tis not flattery if it is true," he argued, his voice growing heavy with exhaustion. " _ **Zasti naizyiri**_ _ **tân**_ _**abkune? (Will you be here when I wake?**_ )"

Alana's eyes softened at the edges, and she offered up a warm smile, nodding. " _ **Za hikhthuzual naizyiri. (I will always be here.)**_ "

Comforted by her words, Thorin's eyes slid shut again, and he fell back into his healing sleep.


	51. Consequences

**A/N: Okay, so it's been a long time, but hey, at least I got it within a month...! (Just...) Sorry it's been so long, but severe writer's block and a full-time job are a bad combination, as it turns out. Seriously. Still, I managed to get about 99% of this chapter written today, so there may be hope that, at the very least, the first part of that duo may disappear soon... (Here's hoping!)**

 **Big thanks to avalanches, Lazycandy999 and silverwolf90438 for following/favouriting.**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **ro781727: Well, then I hope this chapter gives you at least a little bit of satisfaction on that account... :)**

 **JollyRoger1: Welp, you're about to find out... ;)**

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 **Jo: Oh indeed... ;)**

 **Catherine. alice: Soon enough...? How long has it been? 8 hours since you posted that...? Heh, seriously though, sorry for the insane wait. It's been a struggle for me lately, but I'm hoping things will pick up soon**

* * *

 **'Where there is anger, there is always pain underneath.' ~ Eckhart Tolle**

* * *

 **Chapter 51:**

When Thorin woke again, it was several hours later. His body felt like his resting period had never happened - his limbs were just as weighed down by exhaustion as before, and his eyelids remained heavy. Thankfully, his mind was more alert than his body.

He rocked his head to his right, towards the weight he could feel pressing down on the uncomfortable mattress of his bed. A fond smile softened his lips when he beheld Alana's head resting there, her body strewn so haphazardly over the small space it was a wonder she hadn't fallen out of her chair. His hand rose to tangle in her hair, instantly causing her to stir. Her head shifted, and when her eyes met his, a smile lit up her face.

"You're awake," she noted, yawning.

Thorin felt another smile touch the corners of his lips. "More so than you, it seems."

She chuckled, straightening up and wincing when her spine let out a few loud pops. "That's hardly difficult nowadays," she admitted, patting her swollen belly fondly. "It's not easy for me to sleep comfortably anymore - and it doesn't matter how soft my mattress is." She huffed. "Not even born yet and already he's causing me as much grief as you do."

"Ah, but he would not be my son if he did not," Thorin shot back, feeling his smile curling into a grin. He felt terrible, and he wanted little more than to slip back into sleep, but - as was always the case - talk of their son brightened his mood. Still, after a few seconds of weighted silence, his mind drifted and he sighed, moving his head so he was staring up at the ceiling. Then, resigned, he said, "Come on then, **_atamanel_**. I have a promise to keep, as you have kept yours. Let me face your anger."

Alana snorted. "It is almost unnerving how much you seem to accept this."

"I had my reasons for doing what I did, and I am not so sure I regret my actions, but even I can recognise when I am in the wrong." He grinned again, just for a second, and winked at her. "I just don't often admit it aloud."

"So you _do_ know how stupidly you acted?"

"Oh, trust me, I heard enough from Dwalin on the way back to have it _thoroughly_ implanted in my head. Not that it was necessary."

Alana frowned at him. "If you know it was stupid, why did you do it?"

Thorin hesitated, knowing that, while she was keeping her cool for the moment, Alana was furious with him. The spark in her eyes told him as much - she was just _waiting_ for him to say the wrong thing so that she could unleash the full extent of her ire upon him.

He swallowed thickly, then spoke. "Did you know, almost the whole time I was there, I wished to be here? The first few days weren't so bad - Dwalin and I kept ourselves busy, planning and organising everything so as little as possible would go wrong. But when things slowed down, I started to miss you. I had given my word I would help the Master, and though I knew he would let me return should I ask it, I felt I could not. Call it stubbornness, call it madness, but I refused to become an oathbreaker. I simply had no idea we would be gone for so long.

"The Master's wife - Janne, yes? - knew how I felt, I think. When we had a moment or two of rest, she would ask of you. She never seemed to let me talk of anything else. I think she believed talking of you would help, but in the end it only made my longing to return more potent. And I think she noticed that, too, for one day the questions just... stopped. She is perceptive, that woman, I'll give her that.

"We'd been there for weeks before we made any progress. I was on the verge of going mad at that point. But some time in the second week I got this feeling in my gut that I had to stay, and it was stronger than my desire to return home. I didn't know what triggered it - I still don't, to be honest - but I couldn't ignore it. It flared again when we spotted a man roaming the streets, and so Dwalin and I followed him. He turned out to be one of them. We saw him slipping into a building, sopping wet, and when he emerged he was in fresh clothes and dry as a bone. We trailed him, and once we had confirmed him to be one of the marauders, we made doubly sure not to lose him. We tracked him beyond the borders of Laketown for a while - days - before he led us to their hideout." He paused when he noticed her expression. "I guess Dwalin has already told you the next part?"

Alana nodded, eyes hard. "He spared no details, trust me."

Thorin nodded slowly. "Then you know that by the time we came to it, we were severely outnumbered. Dwalin tried to convince me to turn back, but I couldn't get that sick feeling out of my gut. It urged me to push on, and I listened, and so Dwalin followed."

"It's a good bloody thing he did, or you'd be dead now," Alana snapped.

"I know that," he told her, not raising his voice. He knew he deserved every ounce of her anger. "And when he returns I shall both thank him, and apologise for foolishly putting him in such peril." He sighed. "When he retold the story, did he mention the dwarf?"

Confusion flickered across her face, causing her to frown again. "Dwarf?" she echoed. "What dwarf?"

Thorin nodded to himself, suspicions confirmed. "Then I was right - he didn't notice. The first part of the cave system we discovered was full of those asleep or too drunk to stay upright - easy to take out. The second was bigger, and there were more of them. We each took half of the room, and one of the ones I went up against was a dwarf. I know not what his name was, nor did I have any inkling what it could be that drove him to make such unsavoury friends, but I knew I had seen him before. In passing, most likely, but considering I recognised him immediately makes me believe I have seen him more than once.

"I had been hesitant to fight him at first, but he offered no such kindness. He was fighting with the intent to kill. He obviously knew who I was - there are few dwarves who wouldn't - and he thought to use that against me. Most of it was baseless threats and offensive remarks, and nothing beyond what I'd heard a hundred times before. But then he said something that chilled me right to the bone, and that feeling in my gut that had been present through it all spiralled out of control. I knew in my heart he had not lied."

"And what did he tell you?"

"That he was not alone. He was not the only dwarf to have joined that group. That the rest... they are closing in on Erebor. And their goal is more than just a few jewels or pieces of gold. They seek to take out the whole of the royal line. And by the way he made it sound... they intend to start with you, and our son."

Alana snorted. "We have an army's worth of loyal guards to stop such things, and I am no slouch with a sword."

"Those things did not stop the last person who made an attempt on your life."

"And said someone, I am told, has appeared again." Thorin winced, and Alana's face hardened even more. "So you _did_ deliberately withhold that from me..."

"I had every intention of telling you-"

"Then why didn't you?" she snarled, eyes flashing.

"Because you were _gone_ ," he told her, a thread of strain appearing now in his voice. "When I received word of it you were in Minas Tirith. And then when I arrived, everything was so peaceful, and you were so happy. I could not bear to be the one to shatter that. I swore to myself I would tell you when we left, so that I could not ruin the time we had together in Ashmar Zarakh. And then..." His eyes drifted of their own accord to the swell of Alana's stomach, and he knew the moment she recognised the words he could not bring himself to speak. _And then we almost lost him..._

Alana huffed out a breath, turning her head away, but Thorin could still see the tension in her jaw as she clenched it a few times. "You should have said something, Thorin. I can appreciate you were trying to look out for me, but this should have taken precedence. In future, if anything of such importance comes up again, you will tell me at once. Regardless of what I am doing and whether it will ruin my mood."

"I will."

"No, I'm serious. _Swear_ to me, Thorin."

She had never before asked twice for him to do such a thing. Before now, once his word was given, she had believed him. Always.

An ache appeared in his gut as he realised just how much her trust in him had been shaken during these last few hours.

"I swear," he told her, voice cracking. " ** _Gantu khuzdê dastî. (You have my dwarf's word.)_** "

It was the sort of oath he hadn't given in the better part of a century, but one that was more binding than most. To give your dwarf's word was to risk losing everything should you break it. The more superstitious of their kind believed that doing so would soon lead to your death. He wasn't sure if Alana knew the true extent of what he'd just done, but she seemed pacified at least, nodding her head in silent acceptance.

Apparently feeling restless, Alana got to her feet and began pacing up and down in front of his bed. Thorin watched her, a weariness greater than just physical exhaustion seeping into his body. "So this dwarf," she began, bringing the conversation circling back to the most recent time he had made a mess of things, "he said there were others? Here?"

"Whether they are within the walls yet, I don't know. They are close, though. I told Dwalin to make all the guards aware that we may have danger ahead of us, and to tell the guards at the gate they are to pay extra attention to those who enter the city."

Alana blinked. "You told Dwalin about this? Then why did he not mention it to me?"

"Because I asked him not to." Thorin exhaled, looking away when he saw her eyes narrow in another flash of anger. "It was something that came to my ears. I didn't want you to find out from any other source. Not unless there was no other choice."

"If I'd found out sooner, I could have helped with preparations."

"If Dwalin had been the one to tell you, he would have most likely been unfairly subjected to your displeasure, **_atamanel_** , and you know it." Thorin's lips quirked up at the sides when Alana shot him a venomous look. Then he became serious again. "This was always to be my burden to bear."

Alana snorted. "You wouldn't need to bear it at all if you'd withdrawn while you were still unnoticed."

"But as soon as the dwarf spoke those words, I knew I could not leave until they were wiped out."

Alana frowned. "And why not?"

Thorin raised an eyebrow. "Besides the fact that they threaten the lives of everyone living within a fifteen league radius of their hideout?"

"Such a reason is not enough to go in _alone,_ Thorin."

"I was not alone-"

"You had _one person_ as your back-up," she snapped in return. "By Durin, you were outnumbered twenty to one! I don't care how good your swordsmanship skills are, those are not the sort of odds you should be charging into."

"If even one of those bastards survived, people would be in danger," he pointed out, maintaining a tone of professional calmness. "They remain a threat until they are wiped out completely."

Alana scowled at him, snapping, "That does not mean you charge in there without thinking first."

"I _was_ thinking," he countered, knowing that what he was about to say would either calm her down, or cause her anger to spike higher than before. "I was thinking that I could not risk leaving anyone in danger from these people, and that I could not abandon that place with any of them still alive. I was thinking that, if we left, the deaths of their comrades would be traced back to us. Our coming was no secret; they were expecting us. And with that dwarf and the others among them, I have no doubt they knew exactly who we were, too. If I left any alive, they'd seek revenge. It would put you, our son, and everyone else I love in a danger so terrible I could not bear the thought of it. I don't care how many guards we have, and I don't care how great a swordswoman you are yourself - I could not afford to risk having your life in such danger. So I vowed to myself I would wipe them all out, or die trying."

Alana released a mirthless laugh. "'Or die trying'," she echoed, lips twisting into a grimace, and Thorin knew he had his answer. He was, it seemed, to face the full extent of her anger. He sucked in a long breath and mentally braced himself for what was to come. "You know, when Dwalin told me the story yesterday, he said he didn't know if it was a battle-frenzy or just an overabundance of stupidity that caused you to charge into that place. I guess now we have our answer." She shook her head. "You should have retreated, Thorin. You should have left while you had the chance."

"I could not-"

" _Law thraston! (I don't care!)_ " she snarled, shaking her head. " _Gi_ _rúthui_ _hi... (I am furious right now...)_ "

"And you have every right to be-"

" _Will you just-!?_ " She inhaled sharply, her hands fisting at her sides. "Just stop talking for a moment, Thorin." Thorin kept his lips shut, recognising that he had no further chance of trying to get her to understand. Truthfully, he had a feeling she already did, but it was not enough to curb her anger. Not even a little. "Look, I understand that you thought you were doing the right thing, even with as flimsy a reason as the one you have given me. And I am not entirely blameless, either - I should have fought against you going in the first place. Defending yourself in the wild is one thing, deliberately seeking out danger is another altogether. And you the _King_ , Thorin. Even ignoring your stubborn will to keep your given word - and yes, it _is_ stubbornness - this should never have been something you tried to tackle yourself."

Thorin could not stop himself. "You yourself have taught me - and reminded me multiple times - that being King does not give my life any greater value than that of another. Was I to send someone in my place, to stand back in safety while they risked their life?"

"That's not what I meant," she retorted sharply. "As I keep saying, you should not have gone in alone. Even with Dwalin fighting beside you, the odds were stacked high against you. You should have retreated. Maybe even returned home entirely. We could have dealt with the rest of them as and when they came - a few unruly brigands would have been easy pray for the armies of Erebor, and you know it. If revenge would have been the thing to drive them, there is little chance they would have attempted subtlety. Their blood would have boiled for a frontal assault, and they would have failed." She shook her head again. "You are ridiculously lucky to have come out alive." She paused, looking at him with a face suddenly devoid of all emotion. Even the fury that had been a constant since this conversation had started was gone. Thorin honestly wished it would return, for this was far worse. He could handle the intense heat of her anger; but this icy bitterness was an entirely different monster, and one he was not prepared to face. "Did you consider, even for a moment, those who were waiting for you here?"

Thorin's brows drew together. "You were _all_ I thought about. You were the very reason I-"

"I meant," she cut in, her tone deceptively calm, "did you consider what would happen if you died?"

"You would have managed, Alana. You all would."

"Would we?" she asked, head tilted to one side. "I am not so sure. With your death, Fili would have to take the throne - I know your people would not allow a _woman_ to rule by herself. Not that I would want to, at that point. I am not Queen because I want to rule a kingdom; I am Queen because I love you more than anything and you just happen to be King. If you were gone, I would have no reason and no heart to maintain this position. And of course, the whole kingdom would mourn you. Your sister would have lost her brother. Fili and Kili, their uncle. On that note, Fili would be forced to take over the throne, not only too young, but whilst also battling the full weight of his grief. And I would have lost my best friend and husband in one fell swoop, our son would have lost his father, and if the grief had not killed me beforehand, I would have had to raise him alone. He would never know the man who sired him, but for a few stories that could not _possibly_ do you justice. And why? Why would we go through all that?" She scoffed. "Because you abandoned reason at the _worst_ possible time."

Thorin released a choked laughed, feeling an irritating, itching heat in the back of his eyes, and a tightness in his throat. In his eyes, her words had managed to communicate the extent of her thoughts, but also the truth in her heart. Despite her anger and hurt, she still loved him. A weight he hadn't realised had been lying on his chest was suddenly, and all at once, lifted.

Still, he couldn't help but quip, "Matters of the heart are rarely reasonable, **_amrâlimê_**."

Alana released a long sigh, then nodded. "I can't disagree with that," she admitted, though with obvious reluctance.

"The fact of the matter remains," he began cautiously, "we cannot change the past. And, even in the face of your disappointment in me, I don't think I would want to if I could. Going in there gave us the chance to learn of our enemies, and make preparations that will defend us from those who wish to hurt us. I will suffer the consequences of my reckless behaviour with as much dignity as I can muster, but Dwalin and I both survived in spite of everything. None of those criminals can say the same, save for those who were not present at the time of our attack. And you are safer now, as a result. As far as I am concerned, my life is but a small price to pay to keep you safe."

Alana exhaled a long breath, muttering, "Damn him," under her breath, and Thorin felt a wave of relief washed over him. The worst, thank Mahal, was over. He'd prepared himself for a greater storm than this, but was far from complaining about how things had truly unfolded.

"I _am_ sorry I worried you so, Alana," he said, drawing her eyes back his way. More relief filled him when he lifted his hand in invitation, and she took it in her own without hesitation, moving to stand beside him as she did. "I know that I behaved foolishly, and selfishly, and you suffered terribly for that. I was just trying to do the right thing."

"You always do," she told him, giving his hand a squeeze and offering a small smile. "I just hope you realise how much we stand to lose by losing you. All life may be precious, but yours has a greater impact on the world and the people in it than most. Your people love you, Thorin. In doing so, they are affected by your loss." She smiled again, carefully pushing a lock of his hair behind his ear. "I have not forgiven you for this," she warned him. "Not completely, anyway. But one day I think you will earn my forgiveness, and we will move on from this. For now, I have said my piece, and I am simply glad to have you here; perhaps not quite whole, but healing nonetheless."

Thorin smiled, lifting his empty hand and using it to cradle her face. Him heart warmed when she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. " _Gi melin. (I love you.)_ "

Her eyes opened, and her lips twitched up at the edges. " _Adh amin delotha lle. (And I hate you.)_ "

A bark of laughter burst from his chest, and with a wide grin he stated with confidence, "No, you don't."


End file.
